


valentine's day is for suckers.

by mogitz



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: And all that jazz, Angst, Betty Loves Jughead, Bughead Smut, College AU, F/M, Fluff, Jughead loves Betty, Love, More angst, Smut, Valentine's Day, because that would be too easy, neither will admit it, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogitz/pseuds/mogitz
Summary: Childhood friends turned roommates Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper find themselves alone and drunk on Valentine's Day. Bughead Smut.





	1. love stinks (yeah yeah)

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to just be a oneshot but I broke it into parts. Part II will be up tonight. Sorry it's so short, I was on a time crunch.  
> Also, this will be smutty.

Jughead made the decision to stop loving Betty about a week ago.

Should be simple enough, right?

It’s not like she was ever his to love - never his to _lose_.

To be clear: in no way, shape, or form was she ever _his_ in _any_ way.

Jughead reminds himself that there’s absolutely nothing special or differentiating about her.

She’s just a girl. There’ll be plenty more like her throughout his life. He convinces himself that he’ll find some _other_ cute blonde with whole galaxies in her eyes, wearing those little, white Keds around as though she doesn’t know the effect she has on all the guys around her.

Maybe she’ll even smell like lavender and sage and laugh at his dumb jokes, her head falling forward with laughter as she presses her hand against his chest.

She’ll crinkle her nose when she pouts.

She’ll worry about the amount of pizza and burgers he eats and try to get him to take more vitamins.

She’ll make gut-wrenching documentaries _Blackfish_ or _Making a Murderer_ her pick on movie night. He won’t even make fun of her when she cries during it, only offer her his sleeve, because he is a gentleman like that. She’ll take him up on his offer and pretend to blow her nose in it before laughing at his disgusted look on his face, only to show him that his sleeve is still clean.

“I _got_ you,” she’ll boast through tears and laughter.

“You sure do,” he’ll think but never say to her.

She sure _does._

Yeah.. girls like Betty are a dime a dozen. Replaceable.

Disposable.

_...Right?_

 

_Well_.

Turns out, it’s easier said than done. Especially when Betty is not _only_ his oldest childhood friend, but current roommate - which is problematic, to say the least.

He _knew_ better than to agree to that, by the way. Being someone’s roommate is about as far into the friend zone as humanly possible (he also hates the term friend zone with a fiery passion, but he has no other way to describe just how little interest Betty probably has in him without dippin’ into the ol’ cliche bank).

Because while being her roommate is fun and he’s grateful for every second… he also has to endure seeing her traipse around in her little, pink boxer shorts that showcase that _one_ heart-shaped freckle just below the crease of her ass (he was a human, of _course_ he’d looked). He has to listen to her incessant singing show tunes in the shower, and her _bi_ -weekly wine nights with Veronica (how could two people talk about _so_ little for _so_ long??).

All those things are agonizing but bearable.

But today is Valentine’s Day. He’d never put too much stock in such a mass-produced, corporate-controlled faux-liday (he made that one up himself).

That is, until he woke up this morning to see that Betty had left a plate of homemade, pink-frosted sugar cookies on the counter with a ‘ _friendly_ ’ Valentine’s Day card. It wasn’t the most _romantic_ Valentine… the card had a cartoon monkey on the front, _“I’m BaNaNaS ‘bout you, Valentine!”_ He wondered how people snagged jobs in this industry… but wondered more how they slept at night.

Her handwritten message inside meant a lot though. She thanked him for being her best friend and always being there for her when she needed him. He put it in a shoebox in his closet with the rest of the Valentines he’d received from her through the years.

Betty had given him a Valentine every year since they were 8. The class had a party, and his box was glaringly empty. So, she always went above and beyond to take pity on him. He pretended like he didn’t care, but as he got older there were some years that was the only thing he received at all, and he ended up looking forward to whatever goofy, pun-riddled card she picked out for him.

The cookies were an added bonus.

But his mood sours when he realized he is going to have to watch her go out on a date with some random dude from her Women’s Studies class tonight while he sits at home, melting into the couch with Chinese takeout. Not a _bad_ way to go, but _frustrating_ nonetheless.

Especially when Betty steps out of her bedroom with her hair coiffed to golden perfection and a short, _tight_ , red dress that hugs _every single_ curve of her body like a soldier going off to war. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of her, carefully staring her up and down. Damn, she has never looked this blatantly… _hot._

Jughead grits his teeth and closes his eyes, breathing slowly through his nose. He hates himself for the involuntary thoughts running through his head. Even more than that, he hates the very _idea_ of objectifying her. She is _so much more_ than hot.

“How do I look?” she asks before giving him a full spin, making him take in every inch of her. His words get caught up in his throat, so he clears it.

“Fine,” he croaks, his eyes falling back down to his take out. He picks at his Beijing Beef with his chopsticks. He can see her arms drop and her shoulders slump in his peripheral. 

“Gee. Thanks for the confidence boost, Jug,” she retorts, flatly.

Still, she hurries over to him. Her heels clomp against the hardwood floors - she’s not used to wearing heels. She bends down to steal a piece of beef from the box and he tilts it toward her to help her get a better look - he can smell her perfume. She plucks a piece and pops it in her mouth before standing up straight and smoothing out her dress.

"No, but really. Do I look alright?” she wonders.

Why is she so nervous? Does she actually like this guy?  
  
"Um, well, I don't mean to alarm you but…" he says nervously, and the low tone makes her eyebrows pull together in worry. He puts down his food carton and stands, walking around her slowly as he studies her.  
  
"What, what's wrong?" she asks him her voice dripping with apprehension as she looks herself up and down. A sly, amused smirk grows on his lips.  
  
"Nothing, it’s just someone stole at least two-thirds of your dress." Betty's cheeks pinken and she smiles, shyly. She folds her arms over her chest, looking as though she is suddenly feeling exposed under his stare.

" _Quit_ looking at me like that," she snaps, although it tapers off into an uncomfortable giggle toward the end. "I already feel overdressed. And I will have you know this was Veronica’s doing." Jughead cocks an eyebrow and leans against the back of the couch, ever-so-coolly.  
  
"That somehow doesn't surprise me," he mutters, his eyes meeting hers darkly. It makes her squirm again.

" _What?_ " Try as she might, she can't hide the slight irritation in her voice, the kind he knows creeps up on her when she is flustered. " _Seriously_ , would you _quit_ it? What are you still staring at!?” She whines, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. Jug just hobbles on his feet a bit, but maintains his balance.

  
"The make up," he says, simply. He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. "It's uh… it's a little thick. You don't look like you."

“Oh,” she breathes. She looks at her face in the mirror on the wall, “Yeah… Veronica went a little heavy on the eyeshadow.”

Jughead moves back to the couch, returning to his uneaten meal.

“Who is this guy, again?” He tries to recall his name… he’s certain she’s told him at least a dozen times. _Randy? Ryan? Ryder?_

“Josh.”

_Not even remotely close._

Jughead’s phone begins to buzz for what feels like the millionth time. He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out: Midge. He silences it.

“Who has been blowing you up?” Betty wonders, her words mostly vowels as she slathers more pink lipgloss across her already pink, pouty lips. She smacks her lips together and checks her teeth in the mirror.

“Midge. Again.”

“ _Ooooo_ ,” she sings at him teasingly, turning to face him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Is she your _Valentine?_ ”

“She wishes,” he mumbles back. “And no.” Betty purses her lips and sits beside him on the couch, her hand reaching out to rest on his thigh.

“Jug… we have been friends for a long time, right?”

“Is that even a question?” he snorts back at her. “I mean… I don’t think I have any memories from my childhood that don’t include you, somehow.”

“Right. And despite the random, short-lived romance here or there, you’ve never gotten _serious_ about anyone. Aren’t you lonely?”

_Oh, Betty._

Always in love with love, always worrying about others. He really wishes she wouldn’t worry about him like this. Especially his love-life. He feels the blood rush to his cheeks, slightly embarrassed by the callout. She was right. He’d dated here or there, but nothing substantial. He supposes that no one really struck his fancy too often.

That, or he was constantly comparing them to a certain blonde.

“I mean… I’m _alone_ . But I’m not _lonely._ ”

“Well, maybe you should give her a shot! Clearly, she likes you…”

“Maybe,” he says quietly. Because maybe Midge does like him. The only _problem_ is he doesn’t like _her_. But he wants to make Betty happy, so he gives her a tight reassuring smile. “We’ll see.”

“You never know until you try... ya know?” Yeah.. he knows.

He sees her eyes flit over to the clock, “ _shit_ ,” she hisses. “I’m gonna be late. Um… save me some Chinese?”

“ _Ha!_ ” he huffs, “fat chance.” She sticks out her tongue at him and grabs her jacket.

“Fine, fine, fine,” she waves him off on her way to the front door, but catches herself on the corner, “Oh! But _hey_. If I text you 911, will you call me and get me outta there?”

“ _Seriously?_ ” he laughs, shaking his head.

“ _Kthanksloveyou,_ ” she calls out, blowing him a quick kiss. "Byeee!“

"The fact that you need an escape plan is a red flag, Betty!” he shouts after her, but the door slams behind her before the end of her sentence. “Love you too,” he mumbles to no one.

 

So much for falling out of love with Betty Cooper.

 

* * *

 

_**Part II coming tonight.** _

 


	2. i would do anything for love (but i won't do that)

Jughead’s fingers hammer away at his laptop keyboard when he hears the jangling of Betty’s keys in the front door. Bewildered, he looks at the clock - 9:20 pm - there’s _no way_ she could be back this early.

“Hello?” he calls out just as she enters the living room. And she doesn’t look all too happy about it.

“Honey, I’m home,” she huffs unenthusiastically as she steps out of one heel at a time, losing about 4 inches in height. She kicks them aside with two loud _thumps_.

Jughead clears his throat and sits up a little straighter, realizing that in the past two hours he hasn’t moved an inch from his spot on the couch.

“ _That_ was fast,” he says, holding back a yawn and rubbing his eyes til he sees spots. He slowly closes his laptop.

“ _Ugggghhh_ ,” she groans, peeling her jacket off and stomping into the living room. She scooches between his knees and the coffee table to throw herself onto the couch beside him, burying her face in a cushion. Her feet come up to rest on his lap and his eyes trail down: she got a pedicure today. Her toenails are red.

“ _That_ bad, huh?” he wonders, a slight chuckle in his voice as his hand wreathes around her ankle.

“Date from hell,” she mumbles into the throw pillow. Her head pops up and she turns to him, her voice low and her eyes wide, “W-w-wait… am I interrupting? Are you with Midge?”

“No,” he snorts back, shaking his head. _Of course not._

“Well, I would scold you but I’m too relieved,” she says, sitting up to throw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. Jughead freezes under her touch at first, but then his hands slowly rise to pat her on the back. He can feel his eyebrows pull together in concern.

“What happened?” He was curious before, but now he’s starting to get worried. _If that guy laid a hand on her-_

She falls back against the pillows, heaving a sigh, “Nothing it was just… _awful_ . We had _nothing_ in common. He insulted the waiter-”

“Oof… I know how much you hate that.”

“And to top it all off, he spent the last half of the date talking about his ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh… I mean… maybe he’s-” Jughead searches for _any_ words to come to this guy’s defense, but nothing comes to him. Then he wonders why he’s even bothering. He owes the dude nothing. Betty deserves the world.

“He _cried_ , Jug.” That makes Jughead laugh, despite himself. He’s not even sorry - the mental image is too hilarious. “Oh, but don’t worry. That was _before_ he left me with the bill.” His laughter deepens. Her lips tug upward as well, although he can tell she’s fighting it.

“Happy Valentine's day to you, _eh?_ ”

“So happy to see my misery brings you so much amusement, Jug.” Betty groans as she slowly lifts herself up off the couch. Jughead averts his eyes when her dress shifts and rides up, just barely exposing her black, lacy panties.

And that damn heart-shaped freckle.

“Nice panties, by the way.” Betty’s cheeks flush and she adjusts her dress, protecting her modesty as she breezes back past him and heads toward the kitchen.

She calls out to him over her shoulder, “Thanks, I got them just for you.”

Jughead regrets teasing her, because that response was just too unfair. He shifts in his seat when something in him stirs and he accidentally pictures what it would feel like sliding them off her smooth legs and tossing them aside.

God, he hates when his mind misbehaves this way.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he says.

“Nooo!” Betty whines from the kitchen. Her head pops around the corner and she pouts. “Stay up with me! Please? I’ll be so lonely without you…”

“Okay…” To say Jug is hesitant is an understatement. He has been spending way too much time thinking about her lately. It is almost as though the decision to get over her just made him want to get under her even more. He rolls his eyes when that thought runs through his head - could he be any more pathetic?

Probably.

“Yay!” She beams, disappearing back into the kitchen. "Time to open that bottle of wine we’ve been saving! We are getting _drunk_ tonight. _Screw_ this holiday.”

“Atta girl.” Jughead stands to stretch his limbs. Betty reemerges from the kitchen with a bottle of wine in her hand. She pauses to ask, “There’s no Chinese left, huh?”

“Do you really even need to ask me that?” is his rhetorical response. She chuckles lightly and returns to his side, plopping back down on the couch and setting two glasses of wine on the coffee table.

“I guess not.”

“Want me to order a pizza?” he offers. He can _always_ go for a third dinner.

“ _Nah_ , that’s okay,” she grunts, popping the top off the wine and beginning to pour. The red liquid swirls like a whirlpool in the oversized wine glass, and Betty wastes no time tipping it back.

“ _Easy_ , there,” Jughead warns, despite it already being too late. She has most of the glass gone already. “That isn’t some seven dollar wine you find at Walmart, this stuff can knock you on your ass.”

“Drink with me, Juggie,” she pleads, pouring a second glass for him. Jughead isn’t typically much of a drinker, but he obliges anyway. They return to their opposite sides of the couch and Jughead watches as she leans her head back, letting the wine get to work on her nervous system.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asks toward the ceiling, not even opening her eyes.

“Don’t you want to change into something more comfortable?” Jughead wonders. If he’s honest, the skin-tight dress is distracting. He would much prefer her in sweats and an oversized t-shirt - maybe even a burlap sack. But who is he kidding, really? She’d still manage to look stunning. She was just that kinda girl.

She laughs with all of her teeth, sinking deeper into the couch, “ _No way_ .” Jug bites his bottom lip and tries not to stare when her hands start to roam over body, admiring the slick fabric. “I spent _way_ too much money on this dress. And I _wasted_ it on Jake.”

“Don’t you mean _Josh?_ ” Jughead corrects, and Betty blinks a couple times before waving him off.

“Whatever.”

“Wow… I hope your heart will heal one day from this tragic loss,” Jughead’s voice drones, sarcastically. Betty snorts and chucks a pillow at him. She misses.

The two of them stare at the TV screen, but the volume is barely audible. Jughead nurses his glass of wine, and he knows from her sigh beside him that she’s gonna start talking again. He can practically hear her mind buzzing from here.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me this February 14th. As usual.”

“You say that like it’s a _bad_ thing,” Jughead grumbles behind his wine glass before taking another sip.

“Not bad just… _typical._ ” She leans her elbow on the couch arm, propping her head up lazily as she takes another swig. This bottle isn’t going to last ten minutes.

“Again, you say that like it’s a bad thing. Why do you even care about this dumb holiday?” She doesn’t answer the question, just continues her thoughts on the matter.

“ _No!_ But I mean, you _could_ have had a Valentine,” her eyes narrow at him and she taps him in the bicep with her foot. “-and yet you _actively_ chose not to.” Betty has known Jughead for more than half of her life, and yet she seems surprised by this revelation.

“Quality over quantity, Betty.”

“But you still haven’t said why. Why is that?”

“ _Whew_ , gettin’ a little deep, are we?” Jughead tries to brush off. He’s often avoided this particular topic with Betty, afraid something will slip out. Tonight is no exception.

Because the answer to her question is way too complicated. He’s never been all too interested in other girls. Sure, a few have distracted him here or there, but that’s all they’ve ever been: distractions. Something (or someone) to take his mind off of who he _really_ wanted. And sometimes it worked, but it wouldn’t take long before his gaze always wandered back to her. Because that girl didn’t have Betty’s eyes or her mind or her heart.

Maybe she _was_ irreplaceable, after all.

“Pardon my reach,” she says, inching her hand towards the bottle of wine. Her glass isn’t even empty, she just wants to scoot it closer for when it is. She is the epitome of preparedness, even in cases such as this. Jughead sucks in a breath when she leans across his lap, her golden hair dances across the back of his hand. She’s already tipsy and a little giggly - one of Jughead’s favorite versions of her. It’s when she gets really passionate about her convictions. She gets super nosy and asks a lot of questions. She mixes up words like _amoral_ and _immoral_ \- that debate lasted a whole fifteen minutes last time.

She settles back into the couch, now cradling the bottle against her, swirling her glass in the other hand. Her eyes are heavily lidded as she asks again, “Jug. You aren’t answering me. Why are you alone tonight?”

“Well,” Jughead says, turning his body toward her on the couch. Once again her feet migrate to his lap. “If you _really_ need to know-”

“I _do_ ,” she blurts, then giggles again.

“Okay well, shut up and I’ll tell you.” Now she laughs harder. Those couple gulps of wine are already going to Jughead’s brain, too, and he starts to get the giggles. Apparently, they are contagious. “I am alone tonight because first of all, this holiday blows.”

“Okay.”

“And also…”

“Yeah?” He can see her holding back more laughter, but he feels a seriousness wash over him. This could be it. This could be the night he really tells her how he feels - how he’s felt - all these years.

“I’m alone tonight because… my Valentine had another Valentine.”

Betty’s smile fades, and her eyes lock onto his. They widen, and he wonders if she understands what he’s attempting to tell her.

 _“Who??_ ” she breathes.

_Aaaand nope. Right over her head._

It actually makes him laugh, again. He shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I want to help!” She sits up and scoots closer to him. Her dress rides up again, and that it is the opposite of helpful. He reaches over and subtly pulls it back down.

“Look. Can we just forget about it? I’m not good at this stuff-”

“You know,” she tells him, pointing a pink fingernail in his direction. She looks quite sure of herself as she advises him, “If there is a girl you like, you should just tell her.”

“No kidding,” Jughead mumbles, adding more wine to his glass.

“And you should just be yourself!”

Jughead scoffs - Betty is a smart girl. How could she possibly be this dense?

His tone is not without sarcasm when he says, “Oh, wow, that’s _so_ deep, Betty Cooper.” She shoves him, lightly.

“Shut up-”

“No, I mean it. Did you make that up yourself? I’ve _never_ heard that one before-” She readjusts in her seat, getting even closer to him to try to re-explain her very basic logic of the situation.

“I just mean… I dunno. You are completely _different_ with me than I ever see you with other girls.”

This should be her first clue. But the wine is fogging her brain and she’s just not connecting point A to point B.

“That’s not true,” Jughead assures her. “I’m a simple man. What you see, is what you get.”

“If you want someone to fall for you, you gotta be you, Jug.”

“Yeah, well,” he huffs out, somberly. Turning back towards the TV and polishing off the last of his wine. He winces as it goes down, “I don’t think I _like_ me enough to introduce him to other people.”

“That’s a shame,” she says quietly, and he can feel her breath on his neck before she leans her head on his shoulder. “Because you’re pretty amazing.”

Jughead’s eyes close and he lets his head fall to the side, resting atop hers. He can smell her perfume even more now, and it’s driving him crazy. Ever since they were teens, she’s always worn the same perfume in the same ol’ recognizable pink bottle. He couldn’t name it if his life depended on it, but the smell is embedded into his memory forever.

Jughead swallows when she takes his hand in hers, gently tracing shapes into his palm. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears and just prays that she can’t.

“I bet _Midge_ thinks you’re pretty amazing, too...” she nearly whispers. Jughead’s eyes open just so he can roll them.

“Oh, c’mon. Will you get off of that?”

“Well, you must have done something right. She’s utterly obsessed.”

“Girls like guys that are assholes.”

“But you’re not an asshole.”

“Maybe not to _you_.”

“What makes you an asshole in _this_ case? Did you hook up with her and not call her or something?” Jughead freezes, his words caught up in his throat. His body stiffens and he feels hers do the same. She lifts her head, her eyes searching his, “… Jughead Jones, _did_ you?”

He can’t tell her how he feels about her, but Jughead can’t lie to her. He’s never been able to.

“It was not my grandest idea,” his voice croaks. She sits up even more, her hand on his chest to push herself from him a bit more. She’s trying to stitch the pieces of his story together.

“So, wait. You _slept_ with her?”

Jughead’s hand finds the back of his neck nervously and he shrugs, “We didn’t really _sleep-_ ”

“You rocked her world...-”

“With my body, yes.”

“...And now you haven’t called her _since?_ ”

“No, I-”

She gasps, smacking his shoulder, lightly, “Jug! Seriously?”

“I did _call_ her-”

“So _that’s_ why she’s been blowing you up!” He hates the way that she’s looking at him right now.

“Betty, no.” He sets his wine glass down - it’s empty anyway. He turns to her, forcing her gaze to his. “I did call her… she just… didn’t like what I had to say.”

“Oh…” She untenses, leaning back in toward him, “what did you tell her?”

“I told her I didn’t want anything serious… with her.”

“I mean… I’m sure it hurt her to hear that... but at least you were honest with her.”

She hugs onto him, and his arm drapes over her. He wants to reach under her chin and tilt her head up toward him so badly. Wants to taste her more than ever. He curses himself for being here and not going to bed like he knew he should.

She pushes forward and he lets their bodies fall back, snuggled up close and laying together on the couch. It’s not the first time they’ve cuddled before, but it feels different. Her hand is resting on his heart, her leg snaked up over his waist. He thoughtlessly presses a kiss into her hair.

Even if this is all he ever gets from her for the rest of his life… it’s more than enough.

“You know what?"

Jughead hums back a quiet and disembodied response.

"I think you’re my favorite Valentine every year." Jughead glances down at her briefly, shaking his head.

"You are _so_ full of it, you know that, Cooper?"

"No, I'm serious," she promises, gripping onto him tighter and giving him a light shake. "I should have just spent the whole night here with you… I _always_ have fun with you," she adds shyly. Jughead just smiles weakly and takes in a slow breath, closing his eyes.

"Oh, c'mon, Betts. I'm sure you say that to all the guys."

" _Yeaaaahhh_ right."

"Oh, don't act like you don't know that 90% of the guys you meet have harbored a crush on you at one point or another… and the others are probably into dudes. You just don't see it like other people do. You don't pay attention."

The last statement comes out more sternly than he meant it to. Frustrated. Jug just stares forward now, afraid to see her face as he bravely adds, "a lot of guys would be interested in being your boyfriend."

He swallows hard and clenches his jaw to keep himself from saying anything more. And although Betty looks taken aback at first, she smiles softly and leans in towards him as though she is letting him in on a huge secret.

"Well… maybe so. But that doesn't really matter to me, because I'm not really interested in being a _lot of guys' girlfriend_ ," she concedes with a careless shrug. He turns his head down toward her now, their faces close. The melancholy is still there behind his faint smile.

Always there.

Always longing for what he can’t have.

"I like that about you, though. You've always been… different."

"Different," she repeats in a sigh and a chuckle, "Is _that_ the word?" Jughead thinks for a moment, then nods, pleased with his answer.

"Yeah. _Good_ different. But different."

"Thanks," Betty whispers, "I like that you're different, too."

"Now, if we could just make you a little bit funnier, you'd be a full 10.”

"Oh, ha- _ha_. Not everyone can be a comedian like you, Jug."

Jughead can feel his heart thrashing hard in his chest. Something has shifted, something is happening. And his default reaction is fear: he is suddenly scared for so many reasons now, each one repeating in her head over and over again.

This could only end in heartache.

This is his roommate.

No, wait. This is his _best friend_.

This kind of stuff is messy. Complicated.

Jughead is complicated. Jughead is messy.

They _both_ know it.

But the way she is looking at him now makes him wonder if that is going to change.

“Juggie…” she whispers, her voice wavering. “Can I… can I try something?”

Jughead forgets to breathe, but he musters up a brief nod.

Betty's eyes connect with his again and she sets her hand on his cheek, gently stroking the smooth skin of his jaw, his neck. Jug decides right then and there that he isn't going to give Betty the chance to kiss him because instead he leans forward first and presses his lips to hers with more certainty than he has felt before.

She murmurs softly into his mouth when their lips connect, both of them in a bit of a stunned stillness. At first, she barely reacts as his lips catch hers. So he pushes harder, and before he knows it she is pressing back.  Her hand snakes up to the back of his neck, bringing him closer.

They fumble a bit like two amateurs in the dark, which was ultimately what they are. Jughead feels drunker off of her lips than he did from the wine and there’s more adrenaline pumping through his veins than maybe ever.

They slow, lips parting, breath hitting hotly against skin as his forehead butts hers, softly. Their eyes open and reconnected and Jughead can’t remember a time that he didn't hope this would happen one day.

"I always wondered what that would be like," Betty admits, curling up closer to him.

“Me too,” his voice cracks.

He sobers though, the gravity of the situation beginning to weigh down on him. How were things ever going to be normal again?

“This is a bad idea, isn’t it?” he asks her.

“Probably,” Betty says, her voice a low hum. Betty slowly rises from him, scooting away from him on the couch. They sit in the silence for a moment, and when he glances over at her, her fingertips are ghosting over her mouth where his lips once were.

“ _Fuck it_ ,” Jughead breathes, and Betty meets him in the middle of the couch. But before they can stop themselves, their lips find each other in the dark once more.

 

* * *

 

_To be continued..._


	3. shut up (and kiss me).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the smut.  
> Okay, so this was gonna be 3 chapters but I've had some requests to continue the story. Let me know if you're interested.  
> Sorry if there are typos. I will edit them out in the morning.

Jughead’s fingers are lost in her golden hair.

His body feels like it’s on fire everywhere her fingertips touch.

Their breaths are ragged, mingling together as their chests heave. Everything is a flurry of soft touches and tangled limbs that feels like a fever dream.

He can’t believe this is happening… _is_ this happening?

He wants to _feel_ her - really feel her. He is suddenly agonizingly aware of the many layers of clothing between them to do it properly. His forehead never leaves hers as he tugs on his flannel, yanking it off. She helps him. Once he's stripped of the barrier, his hands find her waist and her fingernails claw up and down his bare arms.

He's breathing her breath.

He's _never_ known desire like this.

This is all he’s ever wanted.

All of his life, Jughead was what many would call a _late bloomer_ . He was still under the impression that girls had cooties for far longer than any of his peers - all girls except _Betty_ , of course. When they were kids, she was the only girl worthy of his friendship and his time.

And eventually, it segued into her being the only girl worthy of his love.

Jughead can still remember the first time he thought about kissing Betty Cooper. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so significant in his life had she not actually been the _first_ girl he ever thought of kissing at all.

They were fourteen years old and he was sitting across from her at a Pop’s, watching her lips pucker sweetly around the straw of her milkshake. Her lips were shiny and pink with lip gloss, and he wondered how they might taste. Then, seemingly out of the blue, he wondered what her lips would feel like against his.

And _damn_ if it wasn’t so much better than he ever imagined.

She peppers kisses on his lips and jawline as she kicks a leg over him, hiking her dress up so she can straddle him. He helps guide her onto his lap, his fingers digging into her hips. He pulls at her as she bears down, grinding against his lap and it makes him involuntarily groan because he’s never felt anything that made him feel this alive before.

“ _Fuck…_ ” he hisses when he can feel her heat permeating through the thin fabric between them. He’s nearly salivating, watching her move above him. She smirks, proud of herself.

“How long have you wanted this?” she asks him, her voice low and rough.

“Hmm…” he hums against her, somehow uttering out between kisses, “At least seven years... three months... twenty-two days... and fifteen hours.” He hungrily brings her mouth back to his. Their nervousness from before is gone. Their lips gliding together fast and easily like old friends getting reacquainted.

“You made up the hours,” she teases him in a breathy whisper. Her sense of humor is sexier than anything she has to offer. He wants to joke back, but his mouth is too busy tasting hers, then remembering to exhale air when her lips wander from his. He shudders when they find the base of his neck and the pads of her fingertips trail across the sensitive skin under his shirt. He feels his stomach slack at her touch. She’s a puppet master.

Jughead wants to take control - he’d always thought he would be in control when he imagined this moment (and there was no denying that he did so many times before. _So many times…_ ).

But when her hand slips under his beanie and tosses it away, the feel of her fingernails raking through his hair, tugging and massaging then tugging again, he knows she is the one in control.

Betty pulls at his shirt and he raises his arms to allow her to slip it over his head. He yanks at the straps of her red dress, trailing kisses along her shoulder and she shimmies it down to her waist, exposing her lacy black bra. She sits back from him, shaking her hair from her face, the locks tumbling over her shoulders as she looks down at him.

“ _Fuck... Betty..._  you’re too beautiful-,” he lets fall from his mouth involuntarily. At first, he wonders if he should just keep his mouth shut - he has a habit of ruining things. He’s a ruiner.

But she takes the compliment, biting her bottom lip gently as she brings him back to her. His mouth finds the curves of her breasts and she allows her head to drop back. He can feel tips of her hair brushing against his hands on her lower back.

Betty’s hips grind forward over his, and that’s when she realizes just how hard he is against her. Though this should have triggered a reality check in his mind, he somehow continues to lose himself in her. His mind blanks as her hands slip between them and her fingers fumble with the button and zipper. He shifts in his seat, mumbling curse words against her skin, preparing himself for her warm, soft hand to reach in and grab him.

His low groan vibrates against her chest the moment she makes contact, and he feels his eyes flutter closed. He still can’t believe this is happening…

 _“Wait, wait, wait, wait_ -” she begins whispering, shaking her head. Although he manages to somehow ask her what, he can’t stop his lips from trailing over her collarbone as he holds her and rocks her forward.

“ _Ah_ ,” she gasps, her head falling back once more, but she gets enough self-control to pull herself from him and get him to look up at her.

“Jug, what… what are we _doing?_ ”

“I… I don’t…” he stammers. _God_ , he doesn’t want this to stop, but he can see from the look in her eyes she’s having second thoughts.

And Jughead Jones _never_ wants to be something she regrets.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean… we’re just drunk…right?” she asks, breathlessly. It sounds like she's trying to get him to talk her out of this, but it’s hard to agree with her when her perfect cleavage is in his direct eyeline.

“ _Yeah…_ ” That one syllable is the hardest thing he’s ever uttered. Especially when she slowly slips from his lap back to her side of the couch and it’s the emptiest he has felt, maybe ever. He covers the space where she was on his lap with a pillow. There is a long, awkward silence before he can find the words.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?”

“...I’m not drunk.” It takes her too long to respond, but he’s not surprised when he hears her murmur, “Me neither.”

Jughead turns his head to her, his hand reaching out to rest on her knee comfortingly as he tells her, softly, “listen… Betty…. we don’t have to do _anything_ you don’t want to do.” His words catch in this throat when her hand clasps onto his and she twists her body toward him.

“No, I _do_ ,” she tries to reassure him, tucking her blonde locks behind her ear. But her eyes won’t meet his.

“You… _do?_ ”

“But…”

 _Ah_ , the dreaded ‘ _but._ ’

Nothing good can possibly be coming next.

“I’m scared, Jug. You’re my _best_ friend and... what if this changes everything?”

“Oh, it definitely will.” His hand reaches to cup her cheek when he sees her face drop. “But maybe… that’s not necessarily a _bad_ thing?”

She gives a weak smile, a soft shrug. There is an undeniable sadness in her eyes as she tells him, “I guess… I guess I’m just not as sure as you are.”

Jughead can only nod absently, swallowing down his disappointment like a bitter pill, “well… maybe it wasn’t the most genius idea we’ve ever had, anyway.”

“Are you mad?” she asks, her voice hitching and her eyes glossy. Jughead’s heart is a hundred pounds in his chest, and it aches, but _no_.

No, he could never be mad at her. They just let themselves get carried away. He has survived this long in love with _(out)_ her, he supposes he can survive the rest of his life, if he has to.

Although he wishes he didn’t have to.

He somehow smiles.

“No. I’m not mad,” he tells her, putting her at ease. “But… I _am_ going to go take a cold shower.” She laughs through her nose, but her flushed cheeks and contemplative look in her eyes tell him she’s still lost in thought. His throat closes around every syllable as he regretfully tells her, “we can just… pretend like this never happened.”

The single thing to shatter the silence between them is the sound of some crappy laugh track from the tv - some shitty sitcom with some laughable storyline. Jughead wishes life were more like a sitcom.

He shifts his weight on the couch, away from Betty.

"Alright. I am going to take that shower."

Hesitantly, and against his better judgment, his eyes creep up to Betty's longing stare and her beautiful, blonde-framed face. With every morsel of internal strength he has left, he rises and walks from the stare of Betty's stale, green eyes.

* * *

The scene replays in Jughead’s mind so many times during his shower, he starts to doubt it even happened at all. It all seems so unreal. He starts to mentally list all the reasons it shouldn’t. He said so himself, it would change everything. And what if it ended badly? Was he prepared to go the rest of his life without Betty in it??

The answer was no.

No, he wasn’t about to let himself lose her over a night of self-loathing, too much wine too quicklu, and bad judgment. But for once, he just wishes he could be a bad guy - he’d said so himself, tonight: girls love guys that were assholes. Hell, if he so chose, he could call up Midge and have someone in his bed within 20 minutes.

But that would just be him fooling himself. He needs to get Betty out of his system for good. He is so tired of this hold she has over him. He’s spent the better half of his life wishing things could be different between them, instead of just appreciating what they _do_ have. That wasn’t fair to him.

But worse, it wasn’t fair to her.

So, once again, and for maybe the millionth time in his life, Jughead vows to get over her. He wishes he could just cut those pesky feelings at the limb and let the stump heal.

That is, until he heads to his room after his shower.

“ _Whoa!_ ” Jughead jumps when he opens his bedroom door to see Betty on the other side. He pulls his dark blue towel more securely around his waist when it is dangerously close to slipping out of his hands. He swallows hard when he takes in the sight of her. She’s no longer in that saucy, red dress, but in something even more sinister: his 'S' t-shirt… the gray one. That’s his second favorite one.

But seeing her in it now, it’s jumped up the list to number one.

And those damn black, lacy panties.

“What, _uh…_ what are you doing in here?”

She stands, nearing him slowly, “I’m sorry about before,” she says quietly, folding her arms over her chest. Jughead shrugs, honestly at a loss for words.

He chuckles without humor, “I just don’t know what you want, Betty.” Jughead figures at this point, he has nothing else to lose. Their relationship has changed now, whether or not they tell each other how they feel. They crossed a line tonight, and nothing can ever go back to how it was before. Not since he tasted her and realized he was going to crave her from now on.

She steps to him in a determined stride, her hands finding the sides of his face, her eyes searching his.

“I want _you,_ Jug.” He almost falls for it, almost lets himself be convinced. His hands creep up to envelop hers, pushing them away. He can’t think straight under her touch and her pleading eyes.

“You say that _now_ , but-”

She sucks in a quick breath, “I’m not saying I know what that means. But I do. I want you.”

“ _Okay…_ ”

“And I think… I think I’ve always wanted you on some level. Do you feel that way, too?”

She honestly doesn’t need to ask - he meant what he’d said before. He has wanted her for longer than he should have.

Still, he nods.

“Maybe we should just… I dunno…” she swallows, her breath hitching. Jughead isn’t a moron: he can see she wants him. She licks her lips briefly as her eyes roam over him, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and grab her. But she’s throwing around so many mixed signals, he doesn’t know what to think.

“What?” he barely mumbles. “Betty, what?” He wants to hear _her_ say it.

“Jug… kissing you out there I… I _felt_ something. I don’t know what it was but… I-”

“I felt something, too.”

“You told Midge you didn’t want anything serious.” He wants to correct her. He told Midge he didn’t want anything serious _with her_. But before he can remind Betty this, she goes on: “I don’t think I want anything serious, either. I mean… I don’t want to date right now. I need to focus on school and writing. And I have been burned so many times lately.”

Once again, Jughead wants to correct her. Betty has only been burned because she keeps picking the worst of guys. He thinks back to high school and her unfounded love for Archie. It wasn’t until Veronica and Archie got together (and conveniently live across the hall from them now) that Betty finally let that pipe dream go.

And he knew it wasn’t that Betty didn’t actually want anything serious. It was that Betty kept choosing the wrong guys.

She fidgets shyly with her hands, looking up at him through her thick lashes, “Do you want me, Jug?”

“You know I do,” his voice cracks. He’d only _just_ told her. A sly smile creeps over her lips, her eyes narrowing.

“Okay, so… I figure… if you want _me._ And I want _you-_ ” Jughead holds his breath when he hears her actually say it aloud again, so casually. Like it’s just a fact of life. Her arms wrap around his naked torso and he sees stars. Just the idea of hooking up with Betty is making him dizzy... especially as he stares at her here in front of him, wearing _his_ shirt. She pushes her body up snugly against his - he is relatively certain she isn’t wearing a bra.

“-And neither of us want anything serious...”

“Are you proposing some kind of _friends with benefits_ situation, here?” he finally blurts, tired of tiptoeing around. A small, amused smile spreads across her lips as she cocks her head to the side, sweetly.

“Is that a _problem?_ ”

Probably.

But she’s holding onto him now, and she’s breathing on him and he can’t stop picturing how it felt when she was grinding her hips against his and he thinks maybe he can just suck it up.

So he tells her, “no. No, that isn’t a problem,” with a sideways smirk. This was certainly better than nothing. 

“We need rules,” she says simply, matter-of-factly. And all the romance is snuffed out. She sounds like a kindergarten teacher and it kinda does something for him. He lets go of her to sit at the end of his bed. He clutches his towel tighter, suddenly quite aware just how underdressed he is. Especially when her eyes continue to assault his body.

“Rules,” he repeats, flatly. She moves in front of him, her hands cattily on her hips.

“Mmm-hmm. Clear-cut boundaries and if they aren’t adhered to, this is done. And we have to promise no matter what, we will still be friends.”

“ _Okaaayyy_.... what did you have in mind?” he queries, and Betty pauses for a moment, biting her lip, thoughtfully. She holds up a finger.

“Firstly, we tell no one. That _includes_ Archie.”

“ _And_ Veronica?”

“Right. This is completely between you and me,” she instructs with great seriousness as she nears him. She lowers to her knees between his, her hands sliding up the length of his thighs playfully - he wonders how she got so good at this.  “Okay?”

“Okay,” Jug nods in agreement. Betty stares back at him blankly for a moment before giving him a nod as well.

“Okay.”  In exchange for his agreement, Betty expertly slips her shirt up and over her head. He’d been right. No bra. Jug bites his bottom lip. He can’t stop himself from reaching for her, bringing her body closer to his, pressing a kiss to her neck. Betty rests her hands on his bare shoulders, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his mouth moving against her. She tilts her head to allow more access.

“That’s all?” he asks, his voice buzzing against the sensitive skin he is hovering over. Betty shakes her head lazily; he wonders if trying to think while his fingertips trace up and down her back was proving difficult for her. They’ve never even hooked up yet, and he already seems to know exactly how to touch her.

“ _Ummm…_ ” she hums before wetting her lips. “ _No_ sleepovers. And no pet names. I don’t like words like _‘sweetie’_ or _‘baby.’_ They give me the creeps.” Jug pulls himself away from her a bit, glancing down at her with a raised, curious eyebrow.

“Am I still allowed to call you _Betts_ ?” he implores. She ponders for only a moment; he hasn’t really called her Betts for quite some time. She tells him _Betts_ is still okay.

“Great,” Jughead grins, widely, “then _youuuu..._ have to call me _Captain_.” Her head falls back and she bursts out a quick laugh.

“Uh, nice try but no way,” she replies, dryly. Jug pulls her back onto his lap. Her hands find the sides of his face again and her eyes lock onto his. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look at him this way before.

“And for now… can we just leave feelings out of this? Like, we can still be best friends. In fact, that’s why we are doing it this way. I just want to be sure we are being completely transparent.”

“You’ve got a lot of these,” Jughead says under his breath, but at this point, topless, bossy Betty could pretty much have whatever she wants - especially when she wraps her legs tightly around his waist and he felt the closeness between their two bodies. His lips migrate back to her neck.

“Oh, there’s more,” she assures him. “No more than 4 ‘ _meetings’_ per week.”

“ _Four_ ? _Jeeze_ , Betty. What do you think I am? An animal?” he jests and she chuckles again, a lot more relaxed than when they were in the living. It feels different now, in the privacy of his locked bedroom. He doesn’t feel quite as hesitant or guarded.

Jughead then thinks for a moment before he counters, “...No _less_ than 2.” Betty looks at him like he is crazy, but he just shrugs. “I have _needs_ , Elizabeth.” She lets out a shriek as Jug flips her around, her back landing hard into his mattress. Immediately Jughead is hovering over her, his face buried into the crook of her neck.

“And… we aren’t exclusive, okay? So no jealousy-” she adds between heavy, distracted breaths. Jug’s head raises and he rolls slightly off her. He rests his hand on her belly, propping his head up with his other hand. His face quite serious.

“Well, good. I’m glad we agree on that,” he says, lowly, “because I have _tons_ of chicks on the side.”

“Uh-huh, sure…” Betty laughs with an eye-roll.

“I’m _serious_ , Betty.” He isn’t. “I can’t be tied down. I’m just like… _drowning_ in pussy _all_ the time-” Betty winces at his crude wording and shoves him lightly in the shoulder.

“ _Gross_ , don’t say stuff like that,” she demands in a harsh whisper and he relishes in her discomfort.

“So no dirty talk, then?” he teases with a smile.

“Not like _that_.”

Jughead’s eyes light up as he thinks of a new one, quickly asking, “Are there like… hours of operation?” Betty pauses, trying to see if he’s serious.

“I _really_ hate how you phrase things, sometimes.”

“Oh, c’mon. I just mean is there a point in the night you don’t want a booty-call?”

“You live across the hallway from me...-”

“Yes okay, I _know._ But are there any _off days?_ ”

“I’ll let you use your own judgment on that one, ‘k _Captain?_ ” The term of endearment makes him do a double-take, and then they both crack up. As long as they promise to stay near the surface, they were safe from dragging each other under.

“So… are we doin’ this or what?” she asks him, her breath short. Jughead moves her blonde hair from her face. She is the most perfect thing to him. And if he’s being honest, a lot of what she has just said stings, but when he looks down at her he decides right then and there that he’d rather have her with all these conditions than not at all. It might not be how he pictured or how he thought it would happen… but it _is_ happening.

And he’ll take it.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes. “We’re doin’ this.”

Their mouths once again collide while they finish (attempting to) undress each other. While Jughead is merely in a towel, those damn black panties of hers turn out to be more of a challenge than he had originally thought. But he has her pinned against the mattress, and his fingers slip into the hem. He gives them a yank, the garment turning inside out as he pulls them down her legs just like he'd imagined before.

Betty watches him, giggling, and he is waiting for her to make a smartass comment about not being able to undress a lady properly. But then that fast, his mouth is on her inner thigh, his lips working their way over the smoothness of her skin and to her center - he is going to show her just exactly what she has been missing out on. As soon as his tongue makes contact, she grasps onto his hair and throws her head back.

“This your first time?” he asks facetiously, although the smirk on his face gives away the fact that he knows better.

She swallows hard, her voice still wavering as she tries to answer, “don’t flatter yourself, Jones.”

He begins to move his tongue over her slowly at first, building up momentum as she eggs him on and her soft moans seem to grow into more desperate sounds. She pushes her hips upward, begging him for deeper and more intense contact and he brings up the speed, knowing by her shaking and shuddering that he is already so close to bringing her over the edge.

Then he finds it. That sweet spot that sends her into complete and utter meltdown mode. He knows he found it when she instantly shoots up to her elbows, her head falling back in pure ecstasy as she has her first - and certainly not her last - orgasm.

“That was fast,” he drones, breathlessly.

“New rule. No talking,” she snaps, but that’s all she can come up with. She’s too beside herself to snark back at him further.

He chuckles darkly and climbs up the length of her body, covering her like a warm blanket. Their eyes flash together and then her legs are wrapped around his hips. His mouth finds hers easily again as she writhes underneath his pressure. He feels her hand reach down, down, down between them until she grips him tightly in her hands. The pressure alone makes him feel lightheaded.

“I want you,” she utters to him, although it is strained and guttural.

“Do you want me inside of you?” he asks.

“Yes,” She doesn’t have to ask him twice. He takes her hand and replaces it with his own, carefully guiding himself into her. He hisses through his teeth when he feels searing hot inside of her - he still can’t believe he’s inside of her. They both gasp sharply at the initial contact, the sound made between their bodies giving away just how truly wet she is.

He begins thrusting in and out of her, and he can feel himself sliding against her walls, hitting the spot that she wants him to hit. That second that it took him to pull away and push back in was too long for her though, and she tightens her muscles to match each of his thrusts, their bodies moving in sync.

“You didn’t even ask,” she manages to say between gasps and moans, her nails digging into his shoulders and neck as he bit and nibbles the base of her neck, “if I was on the pill, you _jerk.”_

“Are you?” He says deeply into her skin, his voice so low and husky that it somehow excites her even more, her hips circulating to feel him cover every inch of her.

 _“Yeah.”_ She answers shortly, curtly, but still in a dazed state.

He groans in response, because he didn’t even know how he would separate himself from her now that they got this far, just to go find a condom. She tastes and feels even better than he could have ever imagined. The way her body welcomed his was blindly overwhelming. It all felt so raw that he really thought he had to be dreaming.

But the sharp pain that makes him hiss every time she digs her nails into the skin behind his shoulders just reminds him that this isn’t a dream, but something even better.

Especially when he looks down between them, not only loving the way their bodies look moving together, but the way he quickly disappears inside of her over and over and over again. He has to look away, the sight of it alone being enough to push him over the edge.

Their pace quickens, gaining momentum before long he finds himself steadily moving in and out of her, the finish line in plain sight. He pulls her to him, deeper and deeper until he’d bottoms out, realizing that he couldn’t go any farther. Betty lets out a sharp gasp at his roughness and he grabs ahold of her leg, hoisting it up and hitching it on his back.

She begins bucking her hips under him wildly, her pace matching his own. Her moans become louder, though shorter. He reaches between them, trying to find that bundle of nerves to take her to the next level. There’s _no way_ he’s going to finish before she does. She quivers against him, and he loves the way her eyes glaze over with full passion before she releases the sexiest _“ahhhhhh”_ he’d ever heard.

Then, she tightens and flutters around him, and he can hardly move his hips, but his fingers continue to roll around her most sensitive areas. He can’t help but grin against her when she whimpers his name for the first time.

 _“Juggie….”_ He loves the way his name spills from her lips in a pleading way. Once her body begins releasing the tight hold on him from her orgasm, he begins thrusting into her again. He is proud of himself for lasting this long with Betty having been the only one he’s ever truly wanted, and only just finally got to have.

Her breaths are short, her cheeks flushed like she just ran a marathon.

And he swears she has never looked more gorgeous than she goes right now. He grasps onto her hips as he roughly rolls them over, and Betty seems to have no problem taking the lead from here. His arm hooks around her waist as he scootches them both up to the head of the bed, their bodies sweaty and sticky and refusing to part.

Her hand snakes out to grip his headboard, using it as an anchor to really move her body on his. His finger gently trails down her plump, swollen lip. Her hair cascades down around them like a canopy, a place for only them. Their breaths mingle, running circles around one another. Her big, green eyes flutter closed as her exhales became soft sighs and it is the most sensual, womanly sound he's ever heard. As her hips grind against his, he knows she has him exactly where she wants him and he feels good for making her feel good. His eyes lock onto the shimmer of her skin, dewy at the neck and collarbone. He wants to bite onto her, the animalistic urges inside of him are beginning to come unhinged.

“This feels so amazing,” she whispers, bringing his face to hers. “You feel so amazing.” He can’t respond, his mouth is swallowed by hers as she moves quicker above him. “Keep going,” she insists against his lips, her voice ragged. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream against his, and her eyes squeeze shut, “Jug, I- I’m gonna-” she doesn’t finish her sentence before Jughead’s mouth catches her words, quieting her rambling. No matter, she wouldn’t have finished that sentence anyway before she hit the brink again, obvious waves of pleasure washing over her.

He continues pushing himself in and out of her, suddenly feeling the sensation rising in him as well. Jughead’s mind nearly goes blank as he thrusts a few more times, and with one last thrust, he feels himself release. filling her up. His deep groan meshes with the sob in her throat as he literally feels drained, unable to fathom the pure exhaustion and pleasure that derived from this moment.

She falls beside him and both are breathing hard - it’s the only sound that now fills the room. It is suddenly a different atmosphere as they began coming down off their high. His eyes meet hers, but he can’t read the expression on her face.

Just when he is starting to worry she is already regretting this, a satisfied and beautiful smile appears on her lips. She rolls over to face him, letting off a few giggles, and Jughead feels his heart swell.

“So,” she sighs, “I guess that’s what _that’s_ like.”

“I guess so.” He smiles too, his exhausted chuckles matching hers as they lay side by side: glistening, breathing heavily and wrapped up in each other wholly.

“Not bad, Jones.”

He glances down as he feels Betty lace her fingers with his, gripping onto his hand tightly.  He thinks back to that 14 year old boy, sitting across from a girl at a diner and wondering what her lips might taste like. Without another thought, he leans in to kiss her but letting it linger, really tasting her.

He knows now for certain: It’s indescribable. There is no way to fully describe the exact flavor of Betty Cooper.

He feels her smile against his lips, tiredly telling him, “You’re _definitely_ my favorite Valentine.”

His eyes trail up to her face, and even though he tries to fight off the feelings of love and admiration he has for her in this very moment, he realizes that this is going to be so much harder than he thought.

* * *

 

_To be continued..?_


	4. anyone else but you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (let's just add smut with feelings to the tag, y'all...)  
> This chapter ended up being different than I envisioned. We shall see if this goes over like a lead balloon. Enjoy!

 

“Hey there, sex partner,” Betty cheerily greets Jughead from the kitchen the next morning. She is standing over the blender, about to mix a green smoothie. She has a high ponytail and slick, black yoga pants on - he can tell from the slight glisten on her forehead and the shimmer across her high cheekbones that she’s just gotten in from her morning run.

_ What a nutcase. _

Her sweaty, sticky, naked body flashes in his mind and all the memories of the night before come flooding back and he tries not to let the thoughts physically affect him - still, he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks.

And… also somewhere else.

“Want a kale smoothie?” she offers as he drags his feet to the fridge.

“I’d rather die,” he grunts back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. She just chuckles at him and pushes down the button, the loud whirring filling the apartment. He opens the fridge and fetches the soda, instead.

“Well, drinking soda for breakfast is a step in that direction,” she calls out over the clunky sound of the blender.

“At least I’ll die fat and happy,” he says as he upcaps the 2-litre, the pop-fizz of the pressure still audible over the noise.

She clicks the blender off and takes no time to pour her seaweed-green concoction in a waiting glass. She waits until she’s had a gulp of it (and she doesn’t even retch, somehow) to ask, “wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” he admits, but he knows they are going to have to. Ever since she slipped out of his room last night ( _ Rule #3: No Sleepovers _ ), he was already starting to have realize just how problematic this whole thing is. And he could only imagine she was beginning to see the cracks in the foundation of their ‘ _ brilliant _ ’ idea, as well.

Her hands come down to lay flat against the granite countertop of their kitchen island as she tells him evenly, “well, I really think we ought to.”

Jughead sits on the stool across from her, awaiting her speech on how this isn’t a good idea for them and how last night was a mistake.

“I just think… as much as I really enjoyed myself last night-”

“I feel like  _ enjoyed _ is a bit of an understatement...” he mumbles under his breath, but she ignores him and finishes her thought.

“-we should sorta veto this whole idea.”

He gives a small, tight smile, his eyes falling to his finger as it lazily trails over the mouth of his drinking glass. He knew this might happen. He wasn’t prepared for it to feel so empty, though.

“We are  _ roommates _ ,” she explains, stating the obvious. She lowers herself into his gaze and forces their eyes to meet. “I think we are both smart enough to know that this sort of situation isn’t going to end well…”

“Fine,” his lips utter before his brain can come up with any reasons to object. She cocks a perfectly groomed eyebrow, skeptically. Her arms come up to cross over her chest as she shifts her weight onto one hip.

“ _ Fine _ ,” she repeats. He knows it is a question, but her tone doesn’t come out that way. He shrugs, taking another gulp of his soda to buy his brain more time. She’s had all morning to go for a run and go over all of this in her head. Ten minutes ago, he was still blissfully living in a dream world where girls like Betty Cooper wanted no-strings-attached sex with the likes of him. It was taking him a little time to catch up.

He gives a small shrug, his gaze falling from hers once more, “if you think we should stop, then we should stop.” Her hands come down to clasp over one of his, squeezing.

“It’s not  _ you, _ Jug.” He smiles weakly at her attempt to be comforting.

“Let me guess:  _ it’s not you, it’s me? _ That whole spiel?” She tilts her head to the side and her smile mirrors his - it’s hard to be upset with her when she looks at him this way.

“You  _ know _ that’s not what I mean. I am just… I’m not in a place to be doing this. I have other things I need to focus on. I can’t have any distractions-” 

“Is that what you think I am? A distraction?” His tone is far more injured than he means for it to be, and her head snaps back, her face winced up. He can see the frustration casting a shadow over her features - it makes her face more severe and striking.

“ _ No _ , see. This is the problem. I don’t think I can give you the answers you want. I’m...  _ messy _ . You know me. I’m not good at this stuff. And if I’m being perfectly honest…-” She pauses, trying to decide if she should finish the end of that sentence. 

“What?” he pushes. She takes in a quick breath to get it out before she loses her nerve.

“I’m just a little concerned you won’t be able to leave feelings out of it, you know?”

“So, it _ is _ me.”

“No. It’s us. You are the sweetest, most caring person I know. You hide behind your sarcasm, but I know the truth. And maybe you don’t feel anything for me… but what if that changes?” She is right about some of it, but so wrong about him not feeling anything for her yet. It just shows him how much she really has no idea how he truly feels about her. He wonders if he can use that to his advantage.

“I’m not going to fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

He can’t. Because he already is.  

“I’m afraid of a lot of things. But losing what we have together is probably one of the biggest fears I have. So…”

The fact is, Jughead can’t even blame her - he  _ doesn’t _ blame her. If he had the parents that Betty had (although, he’s quite glad he doesn’t because that would make them related…) he would probably have the same issues. 

Betty never got to see her parents truly show love or affection to each other. For as long as he can remember growing up, Betty had learned to stuff her feelings down and  _ never  _ act on them. Her parent’s marriage was marinated in resentment and mutual loathing, and she’d spent most of their childhood trying desperately to escape. 

Even on the off chance that Betty would get a boyfriend, it never lasted long. She’d never allow herself to open up, never allow herself to be truly loved… and she always, always picked guys who were incapable of loving her in return.

She might have looked like the perfect girl next door, but Betty Cooper was damaged.

And he loves her anyway, despite knowing she would do anything to persuade him not to if she knew how he really felt.

“Consider our verbal contract null and void,” he finally tells her. And he tries not to read too far into the look of relief on her face when he says that. She gives him a hug and he tries (and fails) not to smell her hair. 

“Oh, by the way… Midge stopped by this morning,” Betty winces, nodding her head over toward the living room. There’s a small, cardboard box sitting on the coffee table. “I told her you were out of town. She said you forgot your t-shirt over at her place…”

“Oh, shit,” Jughead says, raising his eyebrows. He did - it was his (formerly) favorite “S” tee - the blue one. “Did she say anything?” he wonders as he approaches the box. 

“Not much…” Betty hums. He pops open the box, and he is actually not at all surprised to see his shirt shredded into pieces. Betty comes out and peeks into the box. She pats him on the back, whistling, “wow. You really did a number on her, huh?” Betty smirks and takes another gulp of her (disgusting) smoothie. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll see you tonight at the party, yeah?” He forgot that Cheryl was having a party tonight. Usually, he’d come up with an excuse to skip, but he ran out of excuses last time. Betty gives him a pleading stare he can never say no to, “please don’t make me go alone. You know how much I hate her parties…” she begs. 

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

* * *

If Archie didn’t live literally five feet across the hall from him, Jughead might have just called his friend. But considering the fact that Betty was at home, he was hoping for a little more privacy than the thin walls of their apartment.

Jughead hesitates before his hand comes up to knock on the door to Apartment 4D. He can hear some rustling from the other side of the door, but it only takes a few seconds for it to swing open and the familiar redhead stands on the other side.

“Jug. What’s up?” Archie asks, out of breath. Sweat is pooling at his hairline and staining his gray t-shirt. Jughead can tell he just got in from a run. What is with people and their daily exercise? It seems insane to him.

Archie opens his front door further for Jug to follow him in. He takes a step into the apartment, looking around for a particular brunette to pop out from around the corner. 

“Is Veronica here?”

“No. I guess she and Cheryl went out to lunch,” Archie says, heading toward the kitchen and Jughead follows. He is relieved - he just needs a little bit of time alone with his friend to hopefully get his head on straight. Archie wasn’t always the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was certainly more experienced in matters of the heart than Jug was.

Archie pulls open the door to his fridge, scanning the contents, “you want anything?”

“No, I’m good. I actually need some advice,” Jughead admits. No point wasting any more time. He’s gone back and forth in his mind over whether or not to discuss this with Archie - he decided to omit the details to protect Betty. He knew she didn’t want people knowing about their dilemma. 

But Archie was his other best friend, and certainly had more experience in this area that Jughead had. 

“Okay, what is it?” Archie asks, pulling out the fixings to make a sandwich. Jughead just watches, his stomach now regretting his previous decision. 

“Have you ever been in sort of… of a casual sex... situation?” Jughead muses. “Like… a no-strings-attached sorta deal?” He feels dumb the moment it leaves his lips, especially when Archie freezes and looks his friend up and down.

“I mean, you’re not really my type, Juggie,” Archie winks. That elicits a quick grin from Jughead, but he moves onto his point.

“I mean friends with benefits. Have you ever done that before?” Archie shrugs, his eyes casting down to his sandwich ingredients. Jughead cringes when he watches him start squirting mustard on a plain, dry piece of white bread. “Oh, God. Stop,” Jughead sneers, repulsed. He rounds the counter and takes the bottle of mustard from Archie’s hands before he can do any more damage. “Let me just do it, you’ve got this all wrong.”

Archie doesn’t hesitate to move to the side, leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Who are we talking about here?” he wonders.

Jughead shrugs, actively keeping Betty’s name out of his mouth, “let’s just say it’s hypothetical.” Archie doesn’t look quite so satisfied, but he goes on anyway. Jughead begins spreading mayo across the white bread, and also grabs an extra two pieces to make himself one as well. Problem solved.

“The trick is putting down a thin layer of mayo on each piece as sort of a barrier. Then and only then, you can add the mustard,” Jughead instructs. Archie just watches him - the two are used to carrying on two conversations at the same time.

“You’re the expert,” Archie snorts, but he could really care less.

“ _ Sandwich _ expert,” Jughead corrects. 

“Look… Jug…” Archie begins, getting back to the nature of the visit, “I love sex more than most people-” 

“Wait… you mean you love sex more than other people do, or you love sex more than  _ actual  _ people?”

“Uhhh…. Well, Both,” Archie says. Jughead nods - fair enough. “But having a friends with benefits situation is honestly not for the faint of heart.  _ Someone _ is gonna catch feelings. The trick is to make sure it isn’t you. If there is any chance you could end up with actual feelings for this girl-” he pauses, “or  _ guy _ …?”

Jughead shoots his friend a quick glare, “ _ girl _ , Arch.”

“Right. If there is any chance you could end up with actual feelings… I’d say it’s a pretty bad idea. It never ends well.”

Jughead already knows this, but it certainly isn’t what he wants to hear. He finishes up the sandwiches, adding the lettuce, cheese, and turkey before closing it off with another piece of bread. He takes a big bite of his, his words muffled as he asks, “how do you keep feelings out of it?”

“If you have to ask, you definitely should not be doing it,” Archie tells him before taking a bite of his own. “Is this about Midge?”

“Hypothetical,” Jughead reminds him. 

“Okay, just… be aloof. Girls like guys that are assholes-”

“That’s what I said!” Jughead exclaims through another bite.

“You just have to keep things in perspective and don’t expect it to turn into anything. Be assertive. You’re too self conscious, you overthink things. If you have a situation like this presented to you and you think you can handle it, then take it for what it is: two people having mutual, casual fun. Don’t stop dating, don’t let it run your life. Just… enjoy it while it lasts.”

It’s pretty sound advice, although not entirely applicable to his situation. Once again he considers telling him it’s about Betty, but he knows he’ll live to regret it if he does.

He has to ask himself the real question here: is he even capable of having a casual fling with Betty? Will he ever not want it to be more? 

Or maybe, just maybe, could starting this with her be the key to changing her mind?   
  


* * *

Even though she wanted to forget the night before to make sure they could save their friendship, Betty spent the rest of the day avoiding Jughead and he could physically feel the empty void she left vacant in his life. They didn’t want things to be weird, but the damage had already been done. It becomes most apparent at the party, when Betty stays far away from him on the other side of the room for most of the night.

“Is Betty mad at you?” Archie wonders, beside Jug on the couch, and the fact that their often clueless friend is already catching on makes Jughead realize just how obvious it is becoming. Someone is surely going to connect the dots, sooner or later.

“No, we’re fine.”

“Oh. Usually you guys are attached at the hip. So it seems weird,” Archie observes. Jughead changes the topic, but still watches Betty. She hides her face behind her red plastic cup from across the room - her cheeks blush every time their eyes catch. She keeps squirming under Jughead’s intense stare. He wonders if she’s fretting over the fact that he knows what she looks like naked. That he now knows what she felt and tasted like. Was she grappling with the knowledge that she knew all the same things about him now, too?

And no one  _ else _ knew  _ anything _ .

Jughead can’t help but continue to eye Betty from his spot on the couch. Archie is beside him, talking about God knows what, but he can’t even remotely focus on that. He’s too busy trying to figure her out.

She is uncomfortable. 

He can tell by the way she keeps averting her eyes from him, pretending like she isn’t looking over at him. But he knows better. He’s already caught her multiple times throughout the night. He can also tell by the way she rubs at her neck nervously. She’s nodding a lot. 

Has she always been this way? Or is he under her skin?

He’d be lying if he said that their little indiscretion hasn’t been on his mind all day - in fact, it is practically on repeat. He’s tried to do as she asked. He’s tried to just forget it - he  _ really  _ has. But there is something so incredibly magnetic about her and the wrongness of it all that he can’t get it out of his mind. 

It was a mistake. 

He knows that. 

_ She  _ knows that. 

Their very friendship depends on them pretending like it never happened.

They’d both figured out quite quickly from their little argument this morning that they are incredibly incompatible. He can’t deal with her inability to express her feelings like a normal human being, and his emotional nature seems to just exasperate her. 

It isn’t going to work.

...but, does it  _ have _ to work? 

Regardless of the logistics of it all, neither Jughead nor Betty can deny the electricity between them. They have amazing sexual chemistry and the way her body moved against his just seemed to be like the piece of himself he was missing… even if he was certain she didn’t feel that way about  _ him _ . At least not emotionally. 

But sexually they were unstoppable, and it seems unfair to Jughead to deny themselves of that. 

So, when he sees Betty disappear down the hallway and towards the guest bathroom, he only hesitates for the briefest of moments before he stands and slips out of the room unnoticed, following after her. 

He keeps asking himself over and over again what exactly he thinks he’s doing. It turns into a whispered mantra of sorts the closer he gets to the bathroom:  _ what am I doing. What am I doing. What am I DOING?  _

He feels almost possessed. His little pep talk with Archie earlier just made him realize that he can do this. He can stuff his feelings down if it is the only way he can have Betty the way he craves. Maybe she’ll change her mind. Maybe not. But he’s willing to take the shot.

Since he didn’t see anyone else disappear down this way before her, he assumes the yellow light leaking out from under the bathroom door is from Betty… at least he  _ hopes _ so as he brazenly turns the knob and let himself in, closing the door quickly behind him.

“Betty-” he starts, and Betty is literally on the toilet at this point. Her eyes widen in horror as she does what she can to cover herself up. 

“Jughead! What the  _ fuck, _ get out!” she yells at him, utterly mortified that he actually _ followed _ her in there. Jughead, however, is hardly fazed.

“We need to talk,” he informs her, matter-of-factly. He makes it a point to focus on her face and not the rest of her, but it is still a complete invasion of privacy.

_ ‘WHAT AM I DOING?’  _ his brain screams at him.

“Uh, No-no… no we  _ really _ don’t!” Betty counters, angrily. “ _ Please _ get out!” Jughead rolls his eyes and turns around so she isn’t so uptight. His hands lay flat against the cool bathroom counter.

“Look, I just want to say what I have to say and then I’ll leave you alone… just… finish up what you’re doing.” 

“I was done anyway,” she grumbles, and Jughead hears the toilet flush. “I just had to pee…”

“Spare me the gory details, okay?” he snaps because if he doesn’t get this out now, this creepy decision to corner her in the bathroom will have all been for nothing. Betty fastens the buttons her jeans as she walks over to the sink, shooting daggers at him. 

“What the  _ hell _ , Jughead? What do you want that couldn’t wait two goddamned minutes?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest, heatedly. Jughead turns towards her and gives her a disapproving look.

“Well... we can  _ start  _ with the fact that you aren’t washing your hands,” he points out, to which he receives an eyeroll from Betty as she turns towards the sink and squirts some liquid soap into her palm. 

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” she hisses at him under her breath.

Once she starts scrubbing, Jughead takes in a sharp breath of his own. “Are you sure about what you said this morning? Are we really just going to pretend like last night didn’t even happen?” 

“It’s working pretty well for me,” Betty mutters, drying her hands on the decorative towel hanging beside her. Jughead leans forward, trying to catch her gaze.

“Oh, really?  _ Really, really, _ Betts?”

“Stop saying r _ eally _ ,” she mumbles, darkly. 

“Because, see, I don’t think it’s goin’ all that well for you,” he challenges, which only makes Betty snort. Her hands shoot up to her hips as she turns to face him.

“Oh, ya don’t think so?” she asks amusedly, jutting her chin out to challenge him. Jughead gives his head a quick shake. 

“Nope. I think you’ve been thinking about it as much as I have. That’s why you’re being so defensive. And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me since this morning,” he accuses, and Betty’s mouth drops open, slightly. She looks like she is going to object, but knows she’s been caught. 

“Nooo, not… not  _ really _ ,” she tries, but it’s hardly believable. She tries to avert her guilty eyes again, but once more Jughead is in her direct eyeline. 

“The whole point of forgetting about last night was to preserve our friendship. It’s been less than 24 hours and it doesn’t even feel like we are friends.” The truth of his own words hurts him, but he recovers quickly. His emotions are the whole reason Betty called the thing off. He is determined to show her he can separate the two.

“It is just going to take a little time for things to feel normal again-”

“Was it good for you?” he asks her bluntly, and Betty shakes her head in slightly stunned disbelief. 

“What? Why are you asking me that? I told you how I felt about it this morning.” Jughead lifts an eyebrow at her to tell her that he’s still not convinced. She shakes her head again, her hands raising up in annoyed surrender. “Ya know what? Nevermind; this is  _ dumb- _ ” Betty starts to push past him, but Jughead stops her, forcing her to face him.

Archie told him he needs to be assertive.

Girls love dudes that are assholes.

“Just… just  _ answer _ the question,” he demands, but before she can give him an answer, he goes on to explain, “-because  _ I  _ enjoyed it. I know you did. _ I _ came.  _ You _ came -  _ three times _ . We both had a great time-”

“ _ Jughead _ ,” Betty says sternly, gazing up at him with seriousness in her eyes. She places her hands on his shoulders and grips, lightly. “Look. What happened last night was…”

“ _ Awesome? _ ” Jughead finishes for her with a cheeky smirk that he can’t contain if he tried. Betty has to suppress her own grin to keep from giving him any more hope. 

_ Too late for that.   _

“It was  _ fine _ ,” she corrects him, enunciating each syllable with her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. 

“ _ Um _ … I think you can admit it was a little better than just  _ fine _ for you, Betty. I seem to recall you said last night that it was  _ amazing _ . That I felt  _ amazing _ inside of you…? Ring any bells?” 

Betty grits her teeth through her smile and shakes her head, trying to keep from laughing at his earnestness. It doesn’t work, though. She chuckles again despite herself, stepping away from him to reclaim some space. 

“What do you  _ want _ from me? For me to say, ‘ _ sure _ ?  _ Let’s just fuck each other whenever we feel like it, Jug?’  _ Really?”

“That was the plan, yeah!”

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but doesn’t work like that, Jughead!  _ Someone  _ is gonna get hurt-” 

_ Yeah. Him.  _   
And he’s willing to take that risk.

“Not that I should have to explain this, yet again, but we just shouldn’t, okay? It’s  _ wrong _ and sneaky and-” her words trail off and he wishes he could see inside that complex brain of hers. Jughead simply stares back at her, awaiting the rest of her response. 

“Hot?” he suggests when nothing comes.

“Yes,” Betty impulsively replies, but then realizes what she’s said and shakes her head. “I mean,  _ no _ . Stop that.” 

“Ya know… telling me how hot and wrong and sneaky it is just makes me want it more. You know that, right?” he teases, dryly. Betty rolled her eyes and Jughead leans down, coolly. She seems to writhe under his intense, knowing glare. “I think you just don’t like that you don’t have control of yourself when you’re around me,” he taunts. Betty stares back at him for a moment, transfixed on his stupid, smug, handsome face. Once again, he can see her snap herself back to reality.

“You know what?  _ No _ . I cannot do this again. You’re  _ exhausting _ ,” she groans, turning to leave the bathroom, but just as quickly Jughead had ahold of her hand, swinging her back to him and bringing her mouth to his far too easily. Betty lets out a surprised whimper when his lips connect with hers, her wrist tightly grasped in his hand while his other hand slides around her waist. 

He places a few more soft kisses upon her before he allows his grasp on her loosen and she is released completely. 

“ _ Whyyyy? _ ” is all she can manage to utter as her fingers feather over her lips where his had just been. He gives her a bemused shrug.

“Because I wanted to,” he rationalizes, simply. Betty’s eyes widen, her face reddening with anger.

“That is exactly your  _ problem _ , Jughead!” she blurts, heatedly. “You act on impulse and just  _ do _ whatever  _ you _ want with no regard to other people’s  _ feelings! _ The world does  _ not _ revolve around you and what  _ you _ feel. What you feel only matters to _ you _ . What you do to others is the only thing that matters,” she scolds, and Jughead does feel a little guilty for kissing her again, although it was hardly against her will. 

He just can’t seem to help himself. He is drawn to her, like moth to flame, whenever she gets passionate about something. She is always so strong and passionate that he begins to wonder if his biggest attraction to her was the fact that she is trying so hard to say she feels nothing for him but is so easy to break. Like she bent her own rules when it came to him. 

It made him feel special. 

Like he mattered, somehow.

“Can you _ honestly _ stand here and say that  _ no _ part of you wanted me to do that?” Betty drops her arms limply, her mouth hanging open.

“Of course I did! But that doesn’t mean that you  _ should _ have. I might  _ want _ a motorcycle, but that doesn’t mean I should go out and get one knowing how dangerous they are,” she explains. Another smug smile appears on his lips.

“You think I’m…” he cocks an eyebrow at her, “ _ dangerous _ ?” Betty presses her lips together tightly, breathing out slowly through her nose.

“You’re certainly a lot more dangerous than I gave you credit for, that’s for sure...” she retorts. 

“I thought you _ liked  _ danger,” he muses. She is caught in his eyes again.

“Not  _ your _ kind of danger,” she quips, stepping away from him cautiously. “I’m going to go back to the party now before people figure out something is up.” She says this slowly, deliberately, so he knows she meant it. It  _ almost _ sounds convincing. Jughead leans against the counter coolly and crosses his arms.

“What changed your mind since last night _? _ ” He  _ has _ to know. And while he’s aware she’s _ more  _ than over this conversation already, he figures he has nothing to lose.

“Jughead!” she nearly shouts, running her frustrated fingers through her hair. “It was idiotic last night. I don’t know  _ what _ I was thinking-” He steps to her.

“I can handle it. I can leave feelings out of it.  _ Friends with benefits,  _ like we agreed. People do it  _ all  _ the time. ” Maybe not many people  _ he  _ knows, but still. Jughead folds his arms triumphantly and half-smirks down at her in a smug, cocky way. Betty just stares back at him, her eyes darkening. She sighs, leaning back on the counter.

“That’s the _ thing _ Jug. We _ aren’t  _ friends.” That sentence makes Jughead do a double-take. It stings.

“We  _ aren’t? _ ”

“Jug, you’re my  _ best _ friend. And I really don’t want to lose you,” she finally admits, somberly. Jughead’s smug smile dissipates, and he leans beside her. His shoulder presses against hers as he sighed and shook his head sadly.

“I mean… we could be  _ best  _ friends with benefits. It’s just a title, really,” he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s not funny,” she scolds, but Betty tries once again not to laugh. 

He turns her to face him, finally getting at least a little bit serious as he promises her, “I just had an amazing time with you last night. And I don’t know about you… but I don’t make connections with people like that very often.”

“Me neither,” she confesses.

“I know you don’t want things to get weird… I don’t either. But there is  _ nothing _ that could happen between us that would stop me from being your best friend.” Her eyebrows knit together, her lips pouting. She wants this as badly as he does, he can sense it. Jughead has his mind made up about the situation, and Betty’s will is weakened - he can tell. She is having a very hard time convincing herself that she didn’t want this, too. 

When Jughead moves in closer to her, Betty sucks in a shallow breath, holding it in as his hands moves up her arms, one of them resting softly on her collarbone. 

“ _ Jughead _ ,” she says, low and warning. It isn’t really an objection, and she doesn’t stop him when he takes her face in his hands and brings her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. He’s actually a little surprised when Betty falls into the kiss relatively quickly, considering how upset she was when he kissed her only moments ago. But her will is weakened, and soon she is wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body forward as he pressed back. 

He forcefully scoops her up, his lips never leaving hers as he plops her down onto the bathroom countertop, separating her knees with his hips. 

“Is this seriously happening again?” she asks breathlessly when his lips free her mouth and move down to focus on her neck. Betty bites her bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud, but he can hear it in her throat. Her eyes keep flicking over to the door handle, nervous someone might be standing on the other side of the bathroom door. 

“Why… are you letting it happen if you don’t want it to happen?” Jughead murmurs between kisses. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“Don’t stop,” she breathes heavily. So he doesn’t.

Jughead’s hands slip under Betty’s shirt so fast, peeling it off of her and over her head easily. His warm, slim hands cupped over her round, perfect breasts as soon as they are freed from her pink, polka-dotted bra. Betty’s back arches as she scoots herself to the very edge of the counter, her body craving direct contact with his. Jughead’s hands traveled down quickly to negotiate the button of her jeans, and Betty raises her hips a bit to help him smoothly slide them off of her long, toned legs. Just like the first time, their familiarity with each other is almost alarming - no shyness or apprehension. 

Just pure, unadulterated passion. 

Betty lets out a gasp when Jughead pulls her roughly back to him, one arm firmly hooked around her waist and the other hitching under her knee, her center making direct and pressing contact with the crotch of his jeans. Betty gasps again when he grinds against her, the friction of his jeans against the thin, nylon-like material of her panties driving them both mad. Jughead tugs at those, signaling that they were next to go, as he continues to kiss her shoulders, her chest. Betty breaks away from him to catch her breath.

“I feel like you’re vastly over-dressed,” Betty lets out in a hushed whisper, probably still trying to be discreet and listen carefully for the sound of footsteps outside the door. There aren’t any - just the distant sounds of the party continuing way down the hall. 

“Well… You look a lot better naked than I do, so...” Jughead rationalizes, equally winded.

“That’s not true,” she moans into his mouth, and Betty is ready to remedy the situation. She sets her hands on his chest and pushes him back a bit. He watches her in intrigue as hops off of the counter and turns him around, pressing  _ him _ up against the countertop instead. She slides her practically nude body up against his, gently kissing and nipping at his neck, which Jughead responds with a low, appreciative groan. 

His hands roam her body, alternating between gentle and rough gripping and caressing; he wants to tear her apart, but also doesn’t want to hurt her. Betty clearly doesn’t feel the same. She shows him this by running her hand through his hair and gripping onto it as her mouth moves over his, and he hisses a bit, dancing dangerously in that place between pleasure and pain.

Jughead likes the way she takes control now; she has always been a strong girl - that was one of the hottest things about her. He tries greatly to keep his composure as he feels her other hand reach down, fumbling a bit with his belt as she attempts to undo it. After a few seconds, he takes his hands from her body just long enough to help her, and Betty instantly dives for the button of his jeans all too eagerly, slipping her hand down under his boxers and gripping onto him tightly. Jughead’s eyes close and he felt slightly dizzy just like last time, bracing himself on the countertop while she handles him. He wonders if he will ever get used to this feeling. He’s never been with a girl who makes him  _ this  _ excited.

He tries to keep his breathing even, even when he feels himself released from his jeans, Betty gently working his pants down just a bit. 

“Whaaaat are you doing?” he mumbles quietly, but he really doesn’t need to know. He doesn’t really care.

Whatever it is, he wants more of it.

What he wasn’t expecting is Betty dropping down to her knees in front of him, one hand smoothly pressed against his stomach and the other holding onto him tightly, running her hand up and down the length of him. He’d never really pictured Betty as  _ this _ kind of girl, although he’d certainly  _ hoped  _ so. 

These last few encounters with her were just full of surprises. 

Jughead flinches and feels his stomach contract at the feeling of her mouth surrounding him, and he lets out an audible groan. 

“ _ Fuck… _ ” Betty moves her mouth on him, and when Jughead finally has the nerve to open his eyes and look down at her, their eyes met and Jughead is dead certain that this image of her, down there and doing whatever she could to please  _ him _ , is going to be burned into his memory forever. 

He sucks in another sharp breath when he feels himself hit the back of her throat, and the thought of that happening is almost more intense than the actual feeling - although that is pretty great, too. 

Jughead’s hand travels down to move her wavy, blonde hair from her face, pulling it back a bit so he can get a clearer view of her working her mouth on him. Jughead’s jaw drops watching her head bob up and down a few times, her hand taking over what her mouth can’t. When her pretty green eyes flash back up to his, he is certain that he isn't going to last very much longer - at least not if he doesn’t stop her. Jughead pulls out of her, and Betty just gazes up at him with puzzled eyes. 

He reaches down for her and pulls her up, forcing her body around so her ass grinds against the front of him and he pressed himself up against her tightly. 

Jughead moves her hair to the side, his lips back to her neck from behind as his hands trail up her smooth stomach, over her breasts, and then one clasps gently around her neck. Betty moans involuntarily, arching her back and pressing her ass against him. 

Jughead guides her downward, bending her over the countertop before he yanks down her panties and guides himself into her from behind. When he realizes just how wet she is, he can’t stop himself from practically slamming himself into her roughly. Betty let outs a short scream and it’s like music to his ears. He loves the pressure of his chest against her back as he leans down to her ear to shush her.  Betty’s mouth falls open in a silent scream as he works himself in and out of her, the sound of her skin slapping against his rhythmically driving the both of them crazy.

Jughead picks up his speed when he sees her in the mirror - her beautiful face is strained and intense, her eyes are squeezed shut as she does everything in her power not to yell out his name…   _ all because of him _ . His hand moves down between her legs as he continues to thrust, working her body from the front and it just seems to make her move her hips at a more ferocious rate. 

Suddenly, there is a loud pounding on the bathroom door, but Jughead is too far gone to stop now.

“Anyone in there?” Jughead isn’t sure if it was Veronica or Cheryl, but it doesn’t matter. “ _ Helloooo? _ ”

“ _ Go _ away,” he yells, watching intently as Betty bounces off the front of him, as though she is an extension of him, and he knows now he isn’t going to be able to last. There is some kind of sarcastic comment on the other side of the door, and he’s now pretty sure it had been Cheryl. Neither of them has the capacity to care. Jughead just reaches over and presses in the bathroom door lock.

“ _ Harder _ ,” Betty instructs, her voice raw and harsh as she presses her hands against the cold, slick surface of the mirror to hold herself in place. Jughead does as she asks, beads of sweat forming at his hairline as he watches himself disappear within her over and over and over again. He feels her tighten around him, and her breathy, quiet sounds of pleasure fill the bathroom, echoing off the walls. He is going to shush her again, but he hardly cares. 

Let them know. 

Let the whole world know. 

He is fucking Betty Cooper in the bathroom at a party and she _ likes _ it. 

She whispers his name over and over. Knowing he satisfied her is enough to reach the end. Jughead pushes forward one last time, releasing himself within her. Betty knows too, he supposes, as she grinds herself against him again, welcoming him even deeper within her. He feels himself get light headed as their movements slow, and when he opens his eyes things feel and look hazy. He takes a moment to collect his breath and Betty seems to be doing the same, her hands still pressed firmly against the bathroom mirror. 

Neither says a word, their exhausted panting filling the silence between them.

Jughead’s hands grip onto Betty’s hips, and he bites his lip as he slowly pushes her forward and off of him, both of them feeling the emptiness of separation. Betty stands upright, and Jughead can do nothing but stare at her gorgeous, toned body in the mirror in front of him. Her cheeks are red, her skin dewy. She instantly goes to cover herself when she sees him studying every bit of her body, although she has no reason to feel ashamed or self-conscious. 

She is perfect to him. 

“You’re so damn amazing,” he says before he can stop himself, and Betty’s face blushes an even deeper shade of red. She brushes her wild hair from her face, reaching down for her panties that were cast aside and slipping them back on. She turns towards him, clearing her throat. 

“So, anyway. We really need to stop doing this,” she comments, but before she can say more, Jughead’s mouth is on hers again, and he knew from the way he felt kissing her now that he was in deep… and if she could be honest with herself - based on the way she was kissing him back - she would have admitted that she was too. 

He pulls away, and his lips felt tingly and raw. They quietly dressed, unsure what to say next. Once they are back to being fully dressed, they both stand side by side, flustered and sticky-skinned beneath their clothes. They stare at the door to the bathroom, and Betty glances up at Jughead before she started chuckling. The laughter is once again contagious and Jughead finds himself laughing, too.

“You know this is still a terrible idea, right?” Betty asks once the laughter has died down. Jughead nods.

“Yep.”

“Promise to stick to the rules?”

“You got it.”

She says nothing more, just gives a weak nod. He gestures his arm towards the bathroom door. “After you,” he says politely. And they both slip out of the bathroom one at a time, and back to the party just as though nothing had happened. Jughead smirks knowingly to himself when all Veronica asks Betty why her cheeks are so pink, and all she can do is shrug.

 

Jughead and Betty don’t talk at all for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

 

_ To be continued. _


	5. these foolish games.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (All y’all bein’ stressed about my baby Betty better eat your words after this chapter. Also, 2 things: first, I only write happy endings… (usually.) And second, like most romantic comedies, a lot could be summed up with a simple conversation. But where is the fun in that?? Fret not, buggies. I won’t hurt our babies more than necessary.)  
> THIS CHAPTER WAS SO HARD, switching to Betty's POV. But the rest of the fic is completely mapped out. You asked for it!

 

**_Interlude - Betty Cooper_ **

As Betty walks to meet everyone for dinner, she does her best to push the memories out of her mind from the night before. She hasn’t seen Jughead all day, but he hasn’t been far from her mind, so it’s certainly not easy. Her body is sore from all of the extra… _exertion_. Every time she tries to bend down or move her body too quickly, she is reminded of Jughead and just how moronic they both are.

She doesn’t know how no one figured out they had slipped off at the party. If anyone would have put two and two together, it would have been Veronica. And so far, her phone had been silent. Eerily silent.

Aside from a text from Jughead that just came through:

 

 **Juggie** [5:39 pm]: do you wanna meet there or ride together?

 

Betty’s thumbs hover over her keyboard as she decides… probably safer just to meet him at the restaurant. Jughead, Veronica, Archie and she are meeting to celebrate Archie’s internship, which is bittersweet. While they are happy for their friend, the internship was going to take him five hours away. And even though it would only be for 10 weeks, Veronica is already unraveling. She had been trying to keep up a brave face, which meant being overly enthusiastic to hide her sadness. So she suggested this celebratory dinner.

 

 **Betty:** [5:40 pm]: I’ll just meet you there.

 

 **Juggie:** [5:40 pm] don’t leave me waiting.

 

She knows Jughead is being sarcastic, but reading the words on her phone screen makes her cheeks warm and her pulse race. She wonders when he had become so _damn_ irresistible to her... But if she’s honest with herself, she supposes (on some level), she’s always wondered about him. She still doesn’t know what got into her on Valentine’s day. She wants to blame it on the wine, but it _had_ to be a mixture of things:

Their brief, flirty conversation before she went out with Josh.

The way he looked her up and down in that red dress like she was a present on Christmas morning.

Even the way she found herself hurrying home after her date when she realized she would rather be with him. It all came together to form the perfect storm, and now there was no going back.

Betty has never been good at saying how she feels - often, it is because she doesn’t really know _how_ she feels. Her emotions and feelings about people had only ever steered her in the wrong direction or ended up being a complete mystery to her. For example, no one was more surprised than _her_ when she developed a crush on Dilton Doiley her junior year of high school. He ended up being a bit of a psycho.

Or Reggie Mantle, who ended up being a bit of a dick.

And, of course, her unrequited feelings for Archie - she _still_ kicks herself for that one.

No, her feelings have a bad reputation for leading her astray.

Because of this alone, she is nervous that whatever it is she’s feeling toward her oldest friend might be fleeting and will ruin what they already have.

Or… had. It already feels different.

 

Besides, she doesn’t seem much like his type, _anyway_.

 

In all the years she’d known Jughead, he was often single. And when he _did_ date around, it was always short-lived and with someone _cooler_ or _edgier_ than Betty.

 _Betty_ with her perfectly pressed collars and white keds.

 _Betty_ with her sleek, high ponytail and straight A’s.

No, Jughead dated girls with a wild side like Midge. Or girls like his high school girlfriend with the pink hair (what was her name? Tobi? Tori?)

Toni. Right.

So, even as it left her mouth, Betty knew it was a bad idea to broach the whole casual thing with him. She just thought that if she could be cool and assertive like the girls Jughead seemed to like, he’d see her as something more than the pretty _girl-next-door_. He’d been so quick to go along with it.

Above all else, Betty isn’t sure she even knows how to love someone else... But she sometimes asks herself if what she has always felt for Jughead is the closest she would ever let herself get.

At least, that’s what she thought.

And then yesterday morning, Midge was at her door, looking all angry and hurt. She couldn’t help but imagine putting herself in her position, and Jug blowing her off. Was it really worth it?

There had been a time she’d feared that she would end up hurting Jughead. But… what if it ended up being the other way around?

She’d never recover from that.

Betty silences her racing mind when she sees Jughead coming up from the parking lot. She can’t help but notice he’s wearing a plaid, button-up shirt under a _different_ plaid, wool-lined jacket. The colors and patterns are clashing - _he’s so fashionably sensitive but too cool to care._ Isn’t that what Jewel had said?

These were foolish games they were playing, after all.

His hands are shoved in his pockets as he trudges up to her, trademark broody scowl on his lips.

“You look _nice,_ ” she says tugging on his jacket a couple times playfully, but she can’t reach the end of the sentence without laughing. He glares at her with a wry smile, the scowl from before melting away.

“Ya _know_ , that would be _so_ much more convincing if you weren’t laughing right now.”

“No, _real_ slick,” she assures him, still giggling. “Not one, but _two_ plaids.”

“Thanks,” he retorts, running his hands down his shirt. “Not bad for laundry day.” He looks her up and down and licks his lips. “You look… nice too.” Betty has to actively stop herself from reaching for his hand, so she adjusts the strap more securely on her shoulder instead. She self-consciously smoothes out her blouse and her pink skirt.

“ _So_ ,” she sighs wistfully, jutting her thumb out toward the restaurant. “Think we can do this without giving ourselves away?” Once she says it aloud, the very notion alone makes Betty’s stomach drop.

“You mean the whole seeing each other naked thing? Yeah,” he waves her off, coolly. “Piece of cake. It’s _Archie_. He’s not too perceptive-”

“Yeah, well, Veronica lives for this sorta thing. She can sniff it out like a bloodhound.”

“ _Ooh._ True. I didn’t even think about Veronica-”

“Think about me _what?_ ” Veronica greets from nowhere. They turn and she’s already leaning in to press a kiss against each of Betty’s cheeks, Archie trailing behind her. “Hi. Oh my God. Sorry we’re late-”

“Time sorta got away from us,” Archie finishes for her.

“No problem, we just got here-” Betty starts to forgive, but Jughead isn’t havin’ any of it.

“About time. _I’m_ starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Betty notes.

“Well since Jughead is clearly _wasting_ _away,_ shall we?” Veronica asks, her arm out toward the door.

It only takes a few moments to get seated. Betty doesn’t know why she’s so nervous slipping into the booth beside Jughead - _especially_ when his hand slides smoothly over her knee. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she glances at him sideways. He’s feeling pretty good about himself - his tight, sinister smirk says it all.

“So. Betty,” Veronica huffs, shrugging off her coat. Her dark eyes are practically glistening with excitement.“I haven’t asked you! How was your _date?_ Potential Valentine for _next_ year?” she gushes, eagerly. Jughead snorts beside her and she bows her head, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear.

“Um… _Not_ quite…” This perks Veronica’s interest even more.

“ _Oooh_ ! ¿ Por _que?_ ”

Betty keeps her answer as vague as possible, “it just wasn’t a love connection, I guess.” Betty can feel Jug’s hand twitch on her knee. She jerks her leg away, shifting in her seat. She can’t think straight under his touch.

“He left her with the bill, too,” Jughead pipes up suddenly, receiving a glare from Betty. “He was a real Rico Suave.” Jughead casually breaks into the bread basket, leaving Betty to fend for herself.

“ _What?_ ” Veronica snaps, shaking her head. “Oh, _no, no, no_ , B. That will not do.”

The waitress arrives, and Betty is thankful for the interruption. She hands out their menus.

“Drinks?” she asks.

“I’ll have a vodka soda with a twist, please,” Veronica starts them off and the rest sputter off their drink orders. Once the waitress leaves, Veronica averts her attention back to Betty - she’s not off the hook. “I am going to find you a quality man, you just wait.”

“Oh, good,” Jughead says. “Betty was _just_ saying she needs to find herself a quality man.” Betty just smirks, elbowing him.

“Can we… change the subject?” Betty suggests, gesturing toward Archie, who’s been sitting quietly the whole time. “How about we focus on the _real_ reason we’re here?”

“Yes!” Veronica beams, leaning her head on Archie’s shoulder and slinking her arm through his. “My Archikins and his amazing opportunity. Although, I am going to miss you like crazy.”

“Don’t worry Ronnie. It’s just a few weeks. And I’ll call you every day.” The two share a kiss and both Betty and Jughead groan.

“ _Ugh_.”

“Get a room,” Jughead snarks, but they smile anyway to let their friends know it’s all in good fun. The waitress comes back with their drinks, and the four of them cheers to Archie. Betty sucks in a breath when Jughead’s hand returns, higher on her bare thigh, now. She can barely focus on anything other than the way his thumb smooths over her skin, gently.

“What about you, Jug? How’s that uh… _thing_ … we talked about?” Archie asks, and Jughead just narrows his eyes at his friend.

“Wow. Subtle, Arch,” He mutters.

Betty clears her throat, turning to Jug and asking as evenly as she can, “Oh… what _thing_ might that be?” Her hand snaps down to physically move his hand from her leg.

“Sorry Jug,” Archie mumbles behind his beer bottle. “You tell Betty everything. I figured she already knew.” Betty raises an expectant eyebrow to Jug.

“Nope. News to me,” she says almost through her teeth. She takes a big swig of her cocktail. “So, Please, Jug. We’re all _so_ curious.”

“Ugh, this is _so_ unnecessary. We’re all friends here, and there’s no shame in it,” Veronica waves him off. She shrugs, “So you have a little piece on the side. No one cares! We’re all happy for you.” She holds up her own drink to him in a silent cheers. “Get it, girl.”

“Archie, I _swear_ to _God_ ,” Jughead seethes, sitting back in his booth.

“ _Okayyy_ , chillax!” Veronica exclaims, her hands coming up to signal a ceasefire. “What is _with_ all of you tonight? This should be an amazing night, and you’re all on edge. Drink _up!_ ”

“You know what, V?” Betty smiles, bringing her drink up and throwing it back. “Let’s just let loose. _Right?_ ”

“I’ve got an early class. I don’t want to get outta control-” He is interrupted by Veronica’s over-dramatic gasp.

“Oh em gee, by the way. _Speaking_ of out of control. Cheryl said someone was totally hooking up in her guest bathroom last night at the party,” Veronica laughs, so in love with anything scandalous. “She asked if it was us,” she adds, pointing between herself and Archie. “And I mean, it sounds like a very Veronica Lodge thing to do, but nope.”

“Wow, that’s… _um_ … that’s _risky,_ ” Betty says, trying to find the least incriminating reaction.

“I know. But it’s not all that interesting considering it coulda been anyone and there were like, a _billion_ people there,” Veronica shrugs, taking another sip of her vodka soda. Betty averts her eyes from Archie’s, who are now darting between Betty and Jughead feverishly.

He’s figuring it out.

He’s figured it out.

“ _Wait_ -” he starts, and that quickly Jughead kicks him under the table, causing the whole table to jump. “Ouch!” Archie exclaims.

“Sorry. Leg cramp,” Jughead drones.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” Veronica announces, slipping out of the booth. “Don’t talk about anything interesting without me.” She’s barely out of earshot before Jughead is leaning in, pointing an accusing finger at Archie.

“Shut. _Up_ ,” he snaps, preemptively.

“Seriously!? What are you guys thinking!” Archie scolds, trying to keep his voice low.

“You’re literally with Veronica,” Betty retorts, flatly.

“Yeah, in a _relationship_ . What is _this?_ ” He points between the two of them. “Is this… love?”

“What? No,” Jughead scoffs.

“No, no, no,” Betty chuckles, nervously. But that answer just seems to make Archie even more annoyed.

“Cool. So. _Casual_ sex? Do you guys just want to flush your entire friendship down the toilet? Or, how about all of ours, while you’re at it-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jughead hisses, “It’s not your problem.”

Archie leans in even closer, “I’m just saying. It’s a bad idea. And when it all blows up in your face, I’ll be the one telling you I told you so.”

“You’re going away, what do you even care?” Jughead asks, finally. Archie shakes his head, somberly. Betty knows him. He’s not trying to be a jerk - he’s genuinely concerned about them and their feelings. She knows when he tells them,

“Yeah. I’m leaving. And I’m scared I’m not going to have friends to come back to when I do.”

Betty wants to defend the situation, wants to reassure him, but that quickly Veronica is back.

“What did I miss?” she asks, plopping into her seat and flipping her hair.

“Nothing,” Archie says, and it’s clear that the mood has shifted.

They order and eat, exchanging pleasantries until the bill comes.

They all head out to the parking lot. Jughead and Archie share a brief hug and she hears Archie assure Jughead they will be talking more about it later and her stomach sinks. They say goodbye to Archie and Veronica, and that quickly, Betty turns on her heel to start heading back to the apartment.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Home,” is her short, less-than-sweet reply.

“Great, is _everyone_ pissed at me tonight?”

“I don’t really feel like talking to you right now.”

“Thought we were gonna leave feelings outta this. They were your rules, remember?” Jughead makes sure to remind her.

“Clearly you don’t care about rules, Jug. Since you went blabbing to Archie the first chance you got-”

“Betty, I didn’t tell him who it was!”

“Well, he figured it out. And even if he hadn’t, feeling me up in public just makes it that much more obvious, don’t you think?”

“Bet-Betty,” he stammers, taking her by the shoulders to get him to face him. “Look… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?” She can’t stay mad at him when he looks at her like that. He is sorry. This whole thing is already such a mess, and she honestly has no one else to blame but herself at this point. “After we hooked up I was just… confused. And I needed to talk to someone. And usually that person is you but…” His words trail off, and it actually hurts to hear he doesn’t think he can come to her now. Because how could he?

Things are different now.

“Why don’t we just go home and hang out. Watch a movie. Like normal.”

“Okay,” she nods, weakly. “But just as friends, okay? I need to feel like I have my friend tonight.”

She’s not sure when it had to be one or the other. But he agrees. She doesn't know why her breath stops when his hands reach up to rest on her face, and he tells her - _no_ \- _promises_ her:

“Don’t forget, Betts. We are friends before anything else.”

He drapes an arm around her, and the two of them walk home together in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

So… It happened again.

She _knew_ it was bound to.

Literally only hours after they finished their movie and Betty said she was going to go to bed. She was so proud they’d kept their hands to themselves.

Betty wakes up and realizes that Jughead has infiltrated her dreams, as well. It’s like she can’t escape him - and yet, she doesn’t want to. It’s the most bizarre tug-o-war on her mind.

The dream was hot and woke her up with a racing heart and an urge inside of her she couldn’t get to subside, even as she lay there trying to will herself just to go back to sleep.

She glances over at her clock. It’s 2:30 am - _nothing_ good happens in such wee hours of the morning.

Still, she gets up to grab herself a glass of water, ( _she’s not sleeping anyway_ ), and  Jughead happens to be in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal ( _of course_ ).

_Cereal in the middle of the night._

Betty is used to this typical Jughead Jones behavior. It isn’t the first time they've bumped into each other in the kitchen when they can’t sleep. In the past, their insomnia might ignite deep, thought-provoking conversations. Sometimes even ice-cream. But, due to the most recent developments between them, it only unnerves her.

“Oh. _Hey..._ ” Betty greets him awkwardly, pausing in the entryway of the kitchen. She can’t stop thinking about her dream. She tries to push it out of her mind, but she keeps seeing flashes and it’s hard to tell what parts are real and what ones aren’t. She leans on the wall, watching him from a _safe_ distance. He looks up at her from kitchen island. His bowl, spoon, box of sickening-sweet cereal, and milk are all around him. Betty shifts her weight on her feet, her eyes falling to the ground. She bravely ventures in further, heading straight for the cupboard.

“Do you just forget I live here sometimes?" he ponders, turning on his stool. "Because every time you see me lately you act like you’re surprised.” Jughead points this out with a small, devious smirk. Betty reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a drinking glass. She's having a hard time pretending like his smile doesn’t drive her crazy.

In fact.... _everything_ he does drives her crazy lately.

“Can you grab me one too, please?” he asks politely - he asks like someone who hasn’t seen her naked. Like someone who hasn't bent her over a bathroom counter before. Betty blushes at the memory alone.

She swallows roughly, even though her throat feels dry. After the bathroom run-in and then their fiasco at dinner tonight, she has promised to try to avoid temptation as much as possible. It has become clear that she has a hard time saying no to him. He’s just so… charming lately.

And cocky.

And confident.

She’d never seen him this way before, but it is definitely doing something to her.

Betty takes another glass out, setting it in front of him with a _clink_ as it rested on the marble countertop.

“Thanks…” His eyes narrow, suspiciously. “ _You’re_ sure quiet,” Jughead observes as she pushes her glass to the ice dispenser on the fridge. The crushing, crunching sound of ice is so loud in their quiet kitchen.

“I don’t have anything to say,” she replies softly, her eyes barely meeting his but falling away again.

“Nothing? Nothing _at all?_ ” She hates the way her face flushes whenever he talks to her now. She wonders if he’s relishing in the power high in knowing he can get under her skin so much.

Betty gulps down her water, wishing it were wine. She wipes her mouth and taps the glass with her fingernail as she turns to face him.

"You know, believe it or not, not _everyone_ needs to talk as much as you do, Jughead.” Jughead smirks and nods without responding. She had him there.

But Betty knows that to _many_ people, she is a closed book. And Jughead seems to know she is feeling a lot just by the way she avoids saying anything at all.

He knows her better than anybody.

She hates and loves that at the same time.

Jughead lifts his big, oversized, bowl to drink down the sugary milk as she walks her glass over to the sink, setting it inside. She is planning to make a quick exit but freezes when something on the refrigerator catches her eye. She doesn't know how she didn't see it before.

“What is this?” Betty asks, dully.

"Hmm?"

She points to the ripped notebook page stuck on the fridge with a smiley-face magnet. Scrawled across the top in his chicken-scratch handwriting it simply says: _Rules..._ underlined three times. Jughead’s eyes flit up to the note, then refocus back on his newly replenished, second bowl of cereal.

“You said I don’t care about the rules. Well… them’s tha _rules_ , honey,” he shrugs, taking another heaping spoonful. She can’t help but cringe at the term of endearment.

“We said no pet names. _Remember?_ You just broke rule-” she squints at the paper, quickly finding it on the list, “-number three.”

“Duly noted.” Betty can’t help but watch him, suddenly overcome with a longing to talk to her best friend. Things had been so strange between them since things had changed, and she already missed him. This is exactly why she’d tried to stop it.

Betty creeps back over to the island, closer to him now as she leans on her elbows on the counter.

“Hey…” she starts softly and her stomach flutters when his eyes rise to darkly. His chewing slows and She smiles. “Do you remember when I broke up with Dilton in high school because he kept calling me _m’lady?_ ”

Jughead thinks on that for only a second before the look of recognition spreads across his face. Then he’s laughing.

“Oh my _God_ , you’re _right_ . He did - Is _that_ where rule number three comes from?”

“Oh, come _on!_ _M’lady??_ I _had_ to break up with him!”

“He cried,” Jughead recalls, nodding far too enthusiastically. “He cried _a lot_.”

“ _Aww_ , stop it. Now I feel bad,” Betty mumbles back at him, but still unable to keep the involuntary, lazy giggles from spilling from her lips.

“What did you ever see in _Dilton Doiley,_ anyway?? Aside from his sweet, _sweet_ doomsday stockpile in his parent’s basement.-”

“Oh, _stoppp_ ,” Betty chuckles.

“No, I'm serious. Archie and I were legit afraid he was going to kidnap you and hide you in his underground bunker after you dumped him. We kept watch over your house.” His sentence comes out far too matter-of-factly to be a lie. Which is even worse.

Betty stands up, her hands on her hips,“you’re exaggerating. He wasn’t _that_ bad, Jug.” He shakes his head, disapprovingly.

“I can’t believe you were in love with that guy-”

“I wasn’t in love with Dilton,” she says sharply without meaning to. He raises his eyebrows.

“Okay. Sorry,” Jughead replies, quieter than before. Their joking tone has shifted and Betty feels it. Especially when he asks, “have you ever been in love?”

“I mean… I thought I was... _once_ . Back when, like an idiot, I told Archie I had feelings for him.” She runs her finger thoughtfully across the counter before her eyes bravely find his once more. “We both know how well _that_ went over," she adds flatly.

It was one of the single-most mortifying moments of Betty’s life. It was the night she tried to tell Archie she was in love with him - well, what she thought was love at the time. She had put it off for years, terrified of losing her best friend.

He didn’t feel the same.

And things between them had never been the same since.

Which is why she could never do the same thing to Jughead.

“ _You?_ ” she asks him. His jaw slacks, and he looks as though he is going to tell her something he’s never told her before. She sits up a little straighter, feeling her head loll to the side. His mouth closes, his shoulders slump.

“No,” he shakes his head and his eyes cast down to his bowl of cereal. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are we broken people, Juggie?” Betty breathes. They sit in the loud silence of the kitchen for a moment.

“I mean… _maybe_ ,” he says, his voice low. He crosses his arms over his chest. “My parents weren’t really the best role models when it came to falling in love. So… I’m probably not the best person when it comes to that kinda stuff.”

Betty laughs weakly, unsure why her eyes are suddenly misty, “I guess we’re two peas in a pod, there.”

“It’s gonna happen for us, one day.”

Betty’s heart stops.

“ _Us?_ ”

Jughead’s eyes widen when he realizes what he’s said, so he shrugs it off.

“Well, yeah. I’m sure you’ll… you’ll meet someone and…” His words trail away. “I’m not looking for anything serious,” he reiterates.

“Me neither,” she agrees, quickly.

“Cause I’m still waiting to hear back about that internship at Time magazine. If I get that I’ll be moving to New York City, _so…_ ”

Betty’s breath stops short. She had forgotten about that. Jughead had applied every year since high school. Although she’s always known it was his dream and could (and should!) happen for him one day, it never hit her as hard as it does right at this moment.

“When do you…” she clears her throat when her voice sounds shaky and tries again. “When do you hear back?”

“I would guess any day now. I mean, I’m not holding my breath but it makes it pretty hard to make long-term plans, you know?” Betty just nods and Jughead picks his bowl back up and goes back to eating. Betty quietly tells him goodnight, and begins to head back to her bedroom. She freezes in place at the sound of her name, mumbled through a full mouth, which she was 100% expecting. She turns back to him, folding her arms over her chest and waiting for this next go-around. She’s almost dizzy from all the circles they’ve weaved around one another.

“Why don’t you stay up with me for a bit?” he asks after he swallows down his bite.

“Because every time we’re alone together lately we end up screwing on whatever open surface we can find,” she puts it bluntly. Jughead’s head falls back and he laughs. She loves when she can make him laugh like that. It's so pure. Betty’s lips curve against her will as she takes a step back into the kitchen, sliding her foot shyly in front of her.

“I really don’t know how you keep pulling me back in.”

“ _That's bullshit and you know it_ ,” he snorts before taking another bite. “It was _your_ idea in the first place. And I’d say… it's probably because we’re pretty damn hot together.” Even though Jughead’s head is tilted back to keep the cereal from spilling from his mouth… Betty can’t disagree.

“It _is_ pretty hot,” Betty’s throat tightens as the words come out. She has an involuntary flash of their bathroom hook-up. It makes her heart race just thinking about it. She craves him now and she hates it.

“Such a shame…” he shakes his head sorrowfully, snatching up his bowl and walking around her. “If you change your mind about it, you know where my room is,” he calls out over his shoulder before heading back down the long hallway.

Betty shakes her head and chuckles to herself. She starts to put Jughead’s cereal mess away because she doesn’t want to go back to her room just yet. She isn’t sure why or how he seems to have this hold on her. What had started as a small sizzle has ignited into a roaring flame at his touch, and she just can’t seem to smother it.

Betty stops and bites the fleshy part of her bottom lip when she notices his empty glass, still sitting on the counter. Before she has the mind to stop herself, she heaves a resigned sigh and goes to the fridge to fill it with ice and water.

She curses under her breath as she heads down the hallway. Somehow, she knew she would end up in his room tonight before she even saw him in the kitchen.

And clearly, he knew that too, since his normally closed door is cracked a little bit. The light from his reading lamp illuminates his dark room and leaks out into the hallway. She pushes the door open a bit. Jughead is in his bed, reading some book she doesn’t recognize. Her stomach flutters again when he catches her in the doorway. A now-familiar smile beginning to manifest on his lips. Betty pulls the door closed behind her before leaning her back against it. He sits up and scoots over a little bit to make room, but she is scared to move into the room any further.

“Well, hello, _m’lady_ ,” he teases. She tries not to laugh.

“ _Ew_. Don’t,” she mumbles, almost so low it sounds like a whisper.

“You brought me my water,” he says, his tone slightly heartfelt. That is, until he adds, “now if I could just get you to make my sandwiches…” Betty now can’t decide if she is going to bring it to him or dump it on him. Instead, she opts to ignore him and sets his water down on his dresser and nears him.

And if she actually cared enough to try, she probably could have stopped it.

But she didn’t want to stop it. She nears him and he sits up on the edge of the bed. He reaches for the fabric of her t-shirt, bringing her closer and their lips collide lazily. They fall into each other, and everything else just seems to melt away. All of the doubt and the worry… it just leaves her. And she can’t remember why she’s been holding back.

Especially when his hand leaves her jaw to slink up into her hair and his other arm pulls her onto his lap. She takes his face in her hands, deepening the kiss. After a moment he pulls away, looking her in the eyes.

Sometimes she thinks he can see all the way down into her soul.

“You’re not trying to talk yourself out of it,” he nearly whispers, his voice low and hushed.

“I don’t want to talk myself out of it,” she replies. Jughead rolls her over, his body covering hers as they continue to kiss - Betty sinks into the mattress, suddenly realizing how tired she is.

He lets out a low breath and Betty watches him, wondering what he is thinking about, but also enjoying his silence.

So much more is said in silence.

They paw at each other to rid themselves of clothing but don’t get too far before Betty just reaches for his waistband. She doesn’t want to wait for them to get undressed, she wants him _now_. She’s so sleepy that she feels loopy and every single soft touch feels exaggerated and tingly. She giggles when his lips trail over the sensitive canyon of her neck.

Still not a word is spoken, just their soft moans and heavy gasps with each right touch or stroke. Jughead sighs when she takes him into her hand. Her lips move over his lazily as she shifts her panties to the side, and they trade oxygen like their lives depended on it the moment he presses into her.

Betty gasps sharply at that first thrust, her sense heightened as he kisses his way down to her neck, his strong arms holding tightly onto her as they move together.

And he feels amazing, the way he kept hitting the right spot over and over. She knows she isn’t going to last long at all this time, even breaking her own silence by whispering his name when she feels that sharp tingle begin to rise in her abdomen.

His warm breath blows against her ear, and she wants to hear him say her name, maybe even wants to tell him to say it, but something holds her back. So instead, she bites her lip to try to stifle the moans he elicits when he brings her leg up to hold in the crook of his elbow.

He is starting to lose it; she can tell just in the way he moves against her. But she has been lost in the moment since they started, and she just keeps focusing on that feeling.

_It’s coming. It’s coming. It’s-_

And when she tightened around him, stars pop to life behind her eyes. She can tell from his small noises that he’s there too, although she wants to keep going forever, and stop completely, and start back from the beginning.

Why does he make her feel this way?

She makes sure to hold onto even tighter as they finish, their skin sticking together as though they were molding. She knows there are no sleepovers allowed, but she could stay here like this forever. As she lays there beneath him, sweaty and panting and slightly guilty (but _completely_ satisfied), she is having a hard time believing that she has any control of herself around him at all.

Betty turns her head and her eyes lock with his, and he is just as winded from their tryst as she is. His eyes close and his forehead presses against hers. She can hear and feel their hearts thumping in their chests, together but apart.

“I don’t think I will ever get used to this,” Jughead says, his breath short. “I don’t want to break any rules here, but… I really like having sex with you, Betty Cooper.”

Her eyelids feel heavy, and a small smile stretches her lips as she finally and shameless admits,  “me too.”

* * *

 

TBC


	6. (this is not) a love song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't as long as I would have preferred, but the next chapter is an important one. Will update again hopefully tomorrow. <3

 

* * *

“You’re _right_ . This is _much_ more fun than showering alone,” Betty chirps happily, her voice echoing off the tiled walls around them.

“ _And_ environmentally friendly,” Jughead makes sure to add, rinsing his soapy hair under the water, but flinching when some caught in his eye. "Ow, _shit!"_ he hisses, trying to wipe it away.

Betty just laughs, "oh, you poor thing, come here!" she coos, bringing up a washcloth and trying to help.

If someone would have told Jughead Jones he'd be showering with Betty Cooper even a week ago, he would have told them they were crazy. And yet here they were: in a shower too small, stealing all the hot water, and avoiding the rest of the world like hermits.

Sexy, _happy_ , hermits.

She giggles constantly as they playfully argue over what the perfect _shower_ temperature is, and who's taking up all the hot water. He swears to her that the temperature she wants would burn both of their skins off, but she claims the temperature he wants makes her feel like she is ' _sitting in a pool where someone just peed'_ (and he makes sure to make fun of her absolute, utter grossness for even mentioning it that way).

And through the laughter and the clumsy nakedness, wonders to himself how she could possibly still be this beautiful with mascara running down her cheeks. She is everything he's ever wanted and never thought he could have.

Although, when he reminds himself that she's still not fully his, a small part of him dies a little bit. But she breathes life right back into him when her slippery, wet arms wrap around his bare torso and she presses a wet, giggly kiss into his shoulder.

"You're just trying to hog all the hot water," he snaps with a smile, turning their bodies to steal her spot under the showerhead.  

" _Nooo_ , I'm cold!" she exclaims, burying her face in his chest and tightening her grip on him. What he doesn't realize is that she's reaching behind him, adjusting the knob to turn the heat up. Jughead yelps when the stinging hot water hits his back and jumps out of the way. Betty laughs maniacally, taking her place back under the rolling water.

This teasing somehow leads to her being pressed against the shower wall with her leg over his shoulder as he licks and nips at her inner thigh, eventually making his way to her core. Her moans echo off the bathroom walls and it's the most erotic sound he's ever heard. She's loud, and he feels proud to be the reason. She is seemingly enjoying herself so much he can't find it within himself to care if someone were to walk into their apartment and hear them.

Clearly, it's not far from _her_ mind, however.

"Did you... lock the front... door?" she manages to breathe between gasps. He shakes his head to tell her no, and apparently it feels good because she arches her back against him, another moan falling from her lips.

" _Why_ are you so good at this?" she whines, and when he looks up at her, her eyes are squeezed shut, her hand in a fist gripping onto the shower curtain rod for dear life. Betty's jaw unhinges, her head falling back against the tiled wall as she lets out a silent scream.

" _How_ did you get so good at this?" She mutters again. Jughead pauses to cock an eyebrow at her.

"Betty... food is my _life_ -" he starts.

"Shhh, shut up," she breathes, deciding she doesn't care to hear the answer. Her hips rise a bit, wordlessly begging him back to her.  He obliges, trailing his tongue against her, slowly, torturously, and her moan came out the exact same way.

 _“Oh-! Jug, I-,”_ she gasps when he hoists her right leg more securely over his shoulder and she can’t help but press against the back of his neck as he begins swirling his tongue around her most sensitive area. She writhes in a way that lets him know he’s right where she wants him.

 _“Yes…yes…yes…”_ Betty tries to keep her voice low, but the wails in her throat refused to stay quiet.

Her body jerks and she groans from deep within her throat as her orgasm hits her hard and almost expectedly. Just knowing that, he can't help but moan against her while his tongue continues to search her as she releases herself. After a few moments that feel suspended in time, she goes limp, her world spinning from exhaustion and euphoria.

Jughead pulls away from her, slowly standing up to rinse his face under the faucet.  He cracks an eye open to peek at her and she's still there, half-lidded and back pressed up against the wall, breathing heavily. She's too docile to fight him for it, now. He’s won.

Well, clearly they both have, actually.

"You're _amazing_ ," she says, her breath still ragged.

"I'm alright," he shrugs, a sly smirk on his lips.

She pushes herself off the wall and pulls him in for a kiss and he takes it from her, feeling accomplished and happy to have made her feel so good. "I owe you," she murmurs against his lips. Her eyes flutter open as her hand slides down his slick stomach, reaching for him. But before they can get too carried away, the water starts to go cold.

"To be continued," he says lowly against her lips, and she groans in disappointment as he turns off the faucet.

They get out and get their towels, trying to dry off in the steamy, cramped space of their shared bathroom - it isn’t all that practical. They erupt from the bathroom in a cloud of heat and steam, sucking in the fresh air of the apartment. Jughead walks past her, about to head down the hall to get dressed but she grabs his arm, bringing him back to her.

“Why, Miss Cooper. Are you not satisfied?” Jughead asks, sounding like some character from a Jane Austen novel. She bites her bottom lip and smiles, unable to keep her hands off of him.

“I’ve still got… oh…” Betty glances at an invisible watch that _isn’t_ on her wrist, before slipping her arms around Jughead and bringing him close.  “about 14 minutes…” He melts into her. He always does.

“Hmm… what could we do with _all_ that extra time-?” Jughead mumbles, lowering his lips into the soft skin of her neck, “ _twice._ ”

" _I've_ got an idea," she grins, mischievously. She pushes him back toward the dining room table, guiding him into one of the chairs. Jughead sucks in a sharp breath when her lips meet his fleetingly, then trail down his jaw, his neck, ribs. She lowers herself down to his knees, playfully pressing a kiss against the fleshy area below his belly button. Jughead’s lips pull into a far away, wistful smile at just the anticipation of what’s to come.

Betty lowers herself further, practically under the table at this point and Jughead sits up in his chair, bracing himself as her hands run up and down the length of his thighs.

Suddenly and without warning, Jughead hears the front door open and a voice call out, “Betty! You home?”

It’s unmistakably Veronica. She rounds the corner in the dining room with no qualms, whatsoever.

“ _Veronica!_ ” Jughead shouts, his eyes wide and guilty. Veronica jumps back when she sees him, frantically trying to cover himself as Betty’s clumsy fumbling from below the table cease immediately. Betty slinks further under the tablecloth, hopefully out of sight. “Jesus, don’t you knock?” he asks, running an exasperated hand through his inky, wet hair. Jughead’s face is on fire and he’s _instantly_ mortified, trying desperately to negotiate the towel to cover a little more of him than it currently is.

“Oh, _God_ , sorry! Were you _just-_ ” She shields her eyes with one perfectly manicured hand.

“No!” Jughead chokes. “No... I was just-” Veronica averts her eyes, her hands up as she moves back into the living room. The blush on her cheeks tells Jughead she’s just as horrified as he is.

“ _Say_ no more. I’m sorry I was just looking for Betty. I’m assuming she’s gone?”

“ _Uh..."_ Jughead stammers, and he can see Betty peeking up at him from under the table, wide-eyed and terrified. She nods him on.

“Hell- _oo_ ,” Veronica snaps her fingers at him, pulling his gaze back up to her. He rounds the table, standing in front of it so Veronica can’t possibly see Betty beneath the tablecloth.

“Yes. Yes, sorry. Betty’s out.”

“Weird. I didn’t see her leave this morning,” Veronica muses.

“ _Whelp_ . Sorry. She’s not here. And _uhhh…._ You should go,” Jughead says, ushering her to the door. Veronica’s dark eyes narrow at him, and he can see the wheels beginning to turn in that devious brain of hers.

“Well, when you see Betty… let her know I’m looking for her? I need help with Archie’s going away par-”

“ _Yup_ , will do,” Jughead says, all but shoving the brunette into the hallway and shutting the door between them. He peeks out at her through the peephole - she looks bewildered and slightly offended, but after a few startled moments she rolls her eyes and leaves.

"She's gone," Jughead says lowly, half-expecting her to return. He turns and Betty is sheepishly climbing out from under the table, her cheeks a vibrant red. Her hand finds her forehead as she clutches to towel more securely to herself.

"Oh, my God. That was _horrible_ ," she laughs without humor. "Clearly we have to lock that door from now on."

"Done," Jughead assures her, clicking the deadbolt. She still has fear in her eyes, so he turns the top lock as well, just in case. "We are all alone now." Her fearful look on her face melts and gives way to a smile as they meet in the middle of the room. Their lips come together like magnets and he just cannot get enough of her. Even though he's had her so many times now, he supposes he will never tire of her body against his or the taste of her lips. She's utterly addicting.

Jughead's lips trail down her jaw, but he feels her tense beneath him when her phone begins buzzing. Jughead chuckles, resting his forehead against the curve of her collarbone.

He groans woefully, “I just don’t think this is gonna happen for us, this morning.” Betty chuckles, gently pushing him from her with both hands.

“It’s probably just Veronica trying to figure out where I am,” Betty turns, walking over to her phone. She squints at the screen, “Oh, never mind. Unknown number. I hate that.” Betty silences her phone. “Okay… well, I suppose I should go get dressed so I can head to class.” She seems just as disappointed with the interruption as he is. She tilts her head and scrunches her nose, “I'll make it up to you later?”

“Fine,” Jughead feigns reluctance. “It would have put us over the 4x rule, anyway.” To be honest, he’s not 100% sure he has the energy, anyway.

“Uh, pretty sure we broke that rule already this morning… twice,” Betty calls out behind her as she heads back to her bedroom to get dressed for the day. Jughead just smirks to himself, quite proud of _all of the sex_ . He heads over to a clean laundry basket on the couch to fetch himself a pair of gray boxer-briefs and pants. He's pulling them on when he hears Betty’s phone buzz. Jughead walks over and looks down at the screen: _One New Voicemail._

“Whoever it was they left you a voicemail,” Jughead calls out to her, his voice carrying down the hall.

“Oh, okay." Betty pops her head out from her bedroom. She is brushing her wet hair into a tight ponytail. "You know what? It might be my professor. I was trying to schedule a makeup appointment for my midterm. Push play for me.”

Jughead picks up her phone, fidgeting with the controls to figure out how to navigate - when did phones get so damn complicated? After a few moments of playing with it, the voicemail kicks on. He’s not too concerned at first when he hears a man’s voice.

“Hey, Betty. Uh…. it’s Adam Walker. I got your number from your friend, Veronica. You might not remember me, but we had Algebra 195B together last term. I was the guy who pretended like I didn’t know how to divide complex fractions just so you’d help me so… _Not_ sure why I just told you that but…” His voice trails off, and Jughead can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy the moment he figures out just where this message is going. Betty comes out from her room, intrigued now. Or, at the very least amused. He’s not sure why that bothers him so badly.

“Anyway,” Adam continues, “I am going to Archie’s going away party tomorrow night and was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab dinner first. _So…_ lemme know.”

They stand there in silence for a long moment, and Jughead cannot, for the life of him, figure out what to say. The way his body has heated up and the knot of almost instantaneous jealousy in the pit of his stomach tells him no matter what he says, it’s not going to come out right.

Her words keep repeating in his head: no jealousy. We aren’t exclusive.

Obviously, Betty is a gorgeous person - inside and out. He should have known it wouldn’t be long before they found themselves in this exact predicament. It certainly wouldn’t be flipped around; there weren’t a ton of ladies banging down his door.

Except Midge.

God, he’s thinking too much. And they are still in silence. It’s almost agonizing as she is clearly unsure what to say as well. Jughead slips a shirt on over her head, asking as casually as he can, “Well… You gonna call him, or-?”

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head. She clears her throat, “no I don’t even know him that well.”

“But he’s going to be at the party tomorrow night,” Jughead reminds her, but he’s not quite sure why. He keeps imagining some dude trying to flirt with her all night while he has to pretend he’s not in love with her. That knot in his stomach grows twice its size.

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbles, her gaze falling from his as she sits down to slip on her shoes, one at a time.

“So like… do you… like him?” Jughead dares ask - he doesn't even want the answer! But once again his mouth won’t stop. “Are you attracted to him?” She all but rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Jug. He’s _just_ a friend-”

“ _I_ was just a friend,” Jughead blurts before he can stop himself. Betty’s eyebrows pull together, a scowl on her lips.

“ _Excuse_ me?” she snaps. “What does that mean? You think I’m just going to-”

“It means what I said,” Jughead cuts her off, curtly. “We were friends. Now, we hook up - you’re the one who said we aren’t exclusive, so I thought I’d ask.”

“I think you’re jealous right now, so I’m going to let this rudeness slide. But I will tell you, jealousy is an ugly shade on you, Jug-” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest angrily.

Jughead scoffs, “I am _so_ _not_ jealous.”

“I mean… you _seem_ a little jealous,” she replies, flatly.

“No-no. Not at all. If you _uh…_ if you wanna go on a date with Mr. _I-pretend-to-be-bad-at-math-just-so-I-can-look-down-your-shirt-”_

“ _Wow…_ ” Betty drones in almost a whisper. “Quite the long name he has.”

Jughead is too busy finishing his thought to hear her, “-which, I mean, he’s already _basically_ admitted he’s a liar. But if that’s what you’re into then, ya know… be my guest.” Jughead’s manic rambling ceases, another agonizing silence washing over them. He regrets every single word but has no idea how to go back. Betty’s eyes narrow at him and he sees her jaw tighten. She’s not too happy.

“Uh-huh. You know… for someone who’s _not_ jealous, you’re sure kinda being a jerk.”

“I said I’m not jealous. You can do whatever you want to do,” he shrugs, his eyes falling away from her. “I don’t care.”

“Great,” Betty snaps back, her voice cracking even on that one syllable. “Great, then you know what? Fine. Looks like I have a date tomorrow night. Since you don’t care and all.”

“Cool,” he replies, already kicking himself. “Who knows. Maybe Adam is a real quality guy, since I know you’ve been just waiting for one to come along, right?”

Betty stands, her eyes glossy. She scoops up her keys and her purse.

“Guess what, Jug. You were wrong/ Girls _don’t_ always dig guys who are assholes.” She turns, her ponytail whipping behind her. Before he can say anything more, she stomps to the front door, slamming it shut behind her on her way out.

* * *

He kicks himself over and over again for his conversation with Betty. He has no idea what had come over him. All he knows is the moment he heard that message, he was blinded by some kind of jealous rage.

Because all his life, people have left him for something better. His dad split and had a _‘found family’_ in a biker gang - last time he saw him, he had introduced him to a kid named Sweetpea, who was ‘ _like a son to him._ ’ His mom took his sister and left. She remarried, started a new family without him.

Even Archie was leaving.

It got to the point where Jughead had started learning how to leave people before they left him. And he is self-aware enough to know that his fight with Betty earlier was the most textbook example of this sort of behavior. The threat of another guy came along, so instead of putting himself out there to be vulnerable, he pushed her away.

He looks at the clock on the diner wall - Archie asked to meet him here, and yet he is fifteen minutes late. He pulls out his phone, checking his messages - nothing.

He opens his last message from Betty and he stares at the keys, wondering what he could possibly say to set this all right. He figures he should start with ‘ _I’m sorry_ ,’ but he deletes the letters as soon as he types them out.

He tries again, “ _I’m a jerk_.” He deletes that one, too. He decides it’s best to give her some time to cool off, so instead he clicks his phone off and stuffs it back in his pocket.

A few moments later, Jughead inwardly groans when the door to the diner opens and in walks Archie - he looks no more excited to see him than he was at his dinner. Jughead doesn’t know why he feels so guilty… it’s not like what he and Betty are doing is hurting anyone. Although, he’s lying if he thinks he isn’t still reeling from their conversation this morning. Just the thought of Betty on a date makes his chest tighten and his ears grow hot.

Archie slumps into the booth across from Jughead, shaking off his jacket and dusting the rain from his hair. The waitress trails him, handing him a menu and filling his coffee cup with black, swirling, liquid sunshine.

It takes a moment after she walks away before Archie starts the conversation off with, “dude… _what_ the _hell_.”

“Can you be more specific, please?” Jughead asks, hiding behind his menu. Archie reaches forward, smacking it down. Jughead can honestly say he’s never seen such intensity in Archie’s soft, brown eyes before. Jughead grunts a sigh, leaning forward on his elbows, “look, man. It… just happened.”

“Yeah, but how…?”

Jughead hesitates, feeling silly with the only response he can think to say, “Valentine's day…” Archie pinches the space between his eyes, shaking his head.

“ _Jesus…_ ”

Jughead winces a face to a scowl, “okay, what is your problem? I mean, I know what your problem is, but why are you _this_ pissed about it? Do you like… love Betty or something?” Jughead scoffs, but even the idea of that being the case makes his stomach feel instantly queasy.

“No,” Archie responds definitely, without missing a beat. Jughead has to admit the surety in his response gives him a strange sense of ease. He shrugs again, crossing his arms over his chest, uncomfortably.

“Okay, then… what else do you want me to say? We’re adults. It _happened-”_

“Jug, c'mon," Archie snorts. He runs his hands down the length of his face, exhaustedly. "You’ve been in love with Betty for years. I'm just concerned… she hasn’t felt the same way-”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Jughead snarls, his head whipping back and his eyes darkening. “What, you think Betty couldn’t possibly love someone like me?” Jughead reaches for his messenger bag - he's already heard about enough. He didn't expect Archie to be jumping for joy, but he hardly expected a reaction like this.

Archie sits up straighter in his booth, “That’s _not_ what I said-”

“Yeah, but you were _thinkin’_ it-”

“ _No_ . You’re a _great_ guy, Jug. And Betty would be lucky to have you. But... when people lie about their feelings like this, when people get together on such… unhealthy grounds… it doesn’t end well. And what is going to happen when this blows up, and I’m not here for you. I mean, at least Betty still has Ronnie. Who will _you_ have when you lose everyone you’ve ever cared about?” Jughead's defenses falter when he sees the genuine concern in his best friend's eyes. His mouth feels dry, he clasps his hands together on the table when he notices they're slightly shaking. When did he suddenly become this... emotional?

“Does Betty know how you _really_ feel about her?” Archie asks, very plainly.

“No.”

“Then how do you expect this to go? She’ll just… develop feelings and break all these asinine rules and you’ll live happily ever after?”

“I honestly… haven’t thought too far ahead.”

Sure, he'd thought about it not working out with Betty but in all the scenarios in his mind, they would be fine.

What if they weren't? What if this really ended up being the beginning of the end for them? Could he really imagine a life without Betty in it? Or a life with her with someone else?

He cringes when he thinks about the way he acted today, how his insecurities basically dared her to go on a date with another guy. He'd practically pushed her into someone else's arms. He'd been trying not to think about it, but it had been hard to focus on much else.

“And what about if you go to New York?”

“Well, that’s a big _if_ ,” Jughead snorts, rolling his shoulder carelessly. “I’m not holding my breath-”

And yet, that’s exactly what he does when Archie pulls the crinkled envelope out of his jacket pocket. He nervously holds it in his hand before he sets it down on the table and slowly slides it over to Jughead. Jug stares at it as though it is a prison sentence, a knot forming in his throat.

“This is actually why I called you here today," Archie tells him quietly, tapping the letter with his index finger. "The mailman must have delivered it to my place by mistake." There's a pause that feels like an eternity before Archie tells him what he already knows: "It’s from _Time_.”

“How… how long have you had it?” Jughead wonders, still not brave enough to pick it up.

“I _dunno…_ A few days. I was going to give it to you after dinner, but things got… _messy_. I figured you’d want it in private in case it says something you don’t want to hear…”

...or maybe it would be something he did want to hear, which might be even worse.

Jughead nods once, picking up the envelope. How scary could this be? He'd gotten one every year since he was 16, it always said the same: _Thank you for your interest in our internship position here at Time Magazine, Inc. While you wrote a compelling essay, we regret to inform you... blah blah blah, same ol' shit, different year._

This one wouldn't be _any_ different.

...but then why did it feel like it weighed a hundred pounds in his hands?

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and shakes his head when he really thinks about how silly this is - there is no need for the dramatics. He rips at the edge, pulling the letter out. It's thin and light, just like all the others he's received in the past. He clears his throat and unfolds it, ready to read what he already knows, but his eyes immediately pull to the word, "Congratulations."

Jughead forgets to breathe for a second, and he can only assume all the color has drained from his face when Archie timidly asks, “What does it say?”

“I… I got accepted," Jughead replies, his voice low. He lifts his gaze up to Archie's stunned face, "I leave in a month.”

* * *

 

_To Be Continued...._


	7. oh my god, i think i like you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: there are definitely typos and grammatical errors in this. Who cares? I don’t.
> 
> But i’ll edit them out later

 

 

* * *

If there’s _anything_ that has become glaringly apparent to Betty Cooper, it is that it's very difficult to avoid your own roommate for over 24 hours.

Not _impossible_ , of course.

But definitely not easy.

The night following their fight, Betty stays over at Veronica and Archie’s. She says it’s to help her with the last-minute details for Archie’s big party - Veronica went _all_ out. Appetizers, open bar, even a DJ. She had done everything she could to send Archie off right. Betty had been there helping her make sure everything was perfect, but in reality… she just couldn’t go home.

Couldn’t face him.

Because she _knows_ him.

She knows Jughead is pushing her away - she’s seen him do it multiple times in his life. Hence why _no_ relationship he’s entered has _ever_ actually stuck. Because Jughead is damaged. He doesn’t _allow_ himself to really get close to anyone - which is exactly why she was hesitant going into this whole deal in the first place.

It isn’t until right before her date that she sees Jughead. She has spent the evening getting ready, knowing that afterward she’ll be meeting everyone at the Four Seasons Hotel downtown for the party.

Betty walks out of her bedroom in her slim fitted, black dress. It fits her like a second layer of skin and she’s not sure if she wore it for herself, or Jughead.

But when she sees him in the living room on her way out, sees the way his jaw just slightly unhinges, and his eyes widen, his pupils blown with awe, she knows the answer.

It’s all for him.

“Betty… you look-”

“I won’t be home tonight,” she utters out quickly before she loses her nerve. His face falls, and she knows his brain has gone to the worst possible conclusion: that she plans on staying the night with her date. She shakes her head as though she can hear his thoughts, “I just mean… I’m staying at the hotel.” She shifts nervously on her feet, “ _alone_ ,” she clarifies.

He looks relieved as he gives her a brief nod, “oh, yeah. Me too. I guess Veronica got a block of rooms at the hotel? Didn’t want anyone drinking and driving.”

Betty can tell he’s stalling her… trying to make small talk. She licks her lips, pulling her purse strap more securely on her shoulder, “yeah. So… I guess I’ll see you there.” She watches him, watches as he worries his brow. Watches as he swallows the lump in his throat - swallows down all the things he wants to say, but never seems to be able to.

His eyes fall from hers, back to his laptop.

“Yeah… see you.”

And now, here she is: sitting across from a charming, conventionally handsome, and ( _seemingly_ ) emotionally available guy, and yet all she can think about is Jughead’s face when she left. Who is she kidding - all she can think about is Jughead in general.

When she should be noticing the spark of electricity when Adam’s hand brushes hers, or the way he orders wine off the menu like a French wine connoisseur, she’s too busy thinking about Chinese take-out and fighting over the tv remote.

She’s too busy picking out all of the ways he’s not Jughead.

“Where did you grow up?” he asks, and she’s brought crashing back down to earth. She feels guilty that she’s only been partially tuned in for most of the date.

“Um…” she stammers when she is caught off guard by his seemingly simple question. She clears her throat, “A small town upstate. Riverdale.”

“Oh, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Yeah,” Betty mumbles, pushing her food around on her plate.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be frank here but… are you… not interested in me?” He asks her, point blank. Her eyes widen, and she shifts in her seat, sitting up straighter.

“What? No, I’m just-”

“ _Distracted_ ,” Adam finishes for her. He leans back in his chair, “yeah. I _noticed._ ”

“Adam, look,” Betty sighs, feeling her eyebrows slump sympathetically. She leans forward, her hand resting on his arm on the table, “it’s not you. I just… I shouldn’t have agreed to come here with you tonight. It was selfish of me. To be honest… I’m sort of-”

“In love with someone else?” he finishes for her.

Betty’s head whips back like he slapped her, “ _what?_ ” she chuckles nervously.

“Or at least _into_ someone else. But the way you keep checking your phone and haven’t asked me _one_ question about myself sorta… gave it away.” She feels the blood pool to her cheeks - is it that obvious? And has she really been that rude?

“I’ve been a pretty lousy date, huh?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “believe it or not, I’ve had worse.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she smirks back at him.

“So. This guy, this _other_ man,” he starts, refilling their wine glasses. “If you’re so into him then why aren’t you with him?” Her mouth drops as she struggles to find the words. His reaction is… _surprising_ to say the least. Especially when he waves her off, “oh, c’mon. It’s _fine_. Let’s enjoy ourselves until the bottle’s gone. Then, I’m outta here,” he jokes. And it makes her laugh, despite the tears stinging her eyes. She is _so_ relieved.

“Um… I’m not with him because… it’s _complicated_.”

“Love usually is-”

Her eyes narrow at him, “You keep using that word.”

“Alright. Fine. _Matters of the heart_ , then. Never _un_ complicated.”

“Well, ours is dangerously complicated,” Betty assures him, taking a sip of her wine.

"Okay... why? What makes your situation so special?" He muses.

"Well, firstly, he's my roommate."

"Okay, that is pretty complicated," Adam gives her.

"And also, he's my best friend."

"You know, love is messy. And hard. And complicated-" Adam says after a moment's consideration.

"Exactly," Betty says, nearly throwing her hands up in defeat.

"It's doesn't come easily... but I will say... most things that are worth it don't."

"Huh," Betty breathes, taken aback by his simple explanation. He shrugs again. He's like a love spirit guide, pointing her in the right direction.

"So, I guess you just need to ask yourself... is it worth it to you?"

 

* * *

 

Betty walks into the party - _alone_. Her eyes instinctively scan the room, looking for that familiar, grey beanie, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You’re here!” Veronica squeals, throwing her arms around her friend.

“You’re really good at popping up out of nowhere,” Betty drones, hugging her back. A fancy waiter walks by with a tray of champagne and Veronica snags two with ease, handing one to Betty.

“So??” Veronica purrs, looking past Betty for her date, “where’s Adam?”

“ _Um-”_ Betty barely gets the sound from her lips before Veronica is already rolling her head around, groaning. Betty scowls at her, “ _what?”_

Veronica’s hand finds her hip over her deep, velvety purple dress, “you ditched him, didn’t you?”

“V, it’s fine-”

“Adam is a good guy!” Veronica laments. Betty’s hands reach up to rest on her friend’s shoulders.

“Adam is a _great_ guy.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Betty gives her a small, sideways smirk and a shrug, “Just not the guy for me.” Veronica doesn’t get a chance to respond before Betty wonders, “Hey, have you seen Jug?” Veronica waves over in a general direction.

“Somewhere over there getting cornered by Midge,” she replies, uncaringly before she’s pulled away by another party guest. The name takes Betty aback - she hadn’t even thought about the fact that Midge might be here.

She looks around the lavish, elegant party again, and this time, she sees him. He’s not wearing his beanie, and he is in fact, being cornered by Midge across the room.

Betty doesn’t hesitate. She gulps down her glass of champagne and grabs another on the way. As she approaches, she can hear snippets of their conversation.

"-it wasn’t even until I got to your apartment and saw Betty that I even knew you were _alive_ ," Midge scolds him, her face full of concern.  
He shrugs, "I've been oka-"

"Seriously. You have my number, right?"

"Uh... _yeah,"_ Jug stammers, his eyes finding Betty's nervously as she nears them.

"I know it’s going to be tough for you with Archie leaving. If you ever need anything, please just call me or text me. I'll be right there," Midge offers. Betty is completely puzzled by Midge's ' _kindness,_ ' and it appears from his body language that Jughead is too. Betty could see the faintest appearance of a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"He's fine," Betty snaps before she gets a chance to catch herself, correcting the sudden lashing with a smile.

_What the hell was that?_

This fiery feeling in her chest and cheeks... _jealousy?_ Jughead furrows his brows, his eyes flitting between the two, suspiciously.

"Thanks, Midge. That's real... _nice_ of you?" Jughead mumbles.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then how about I get us a drink?" she suggests suddenly, loudly. "Whiskey, right?" she adds with a wink. Betty can tell she’s already had her fair share to drink tonight.

_And how did she know that he prefers whiskey?_

Jughead doesn't have a chance to respond, and with a quick kiss on his cheek, Midge spins around happily and bounces back into the party, towards the bathroom. Jughead glances down at Betty, confusion painting his features. Betty just clenches her jaw, then forces a smile, trying to appear cool and collected. But if she is honest with herself, she would admit that Midge’s interaction with Jughead has just left her head spinning a bit.

"That was... _interesting_ ," Jughead says, quietly. "Was she just… flirting with me?"

“Yeah,” is Betty’s curt reply. She crosses her arms over her chest, sulkily. “And _literally_ a few days ago she delivered your shirt back to you in pieces so… have fun with that.”

“Jealous, Betts?” he wonders - he almost sounds amused by the idea. She rolls her eyes.

"Nope. I just need a drink," she mumbles under her breath, leaving Jug to make her own way to the bar to order herself something (much) stronger than champagne.

This is going to be harder than she thought, not telling anyone about her and Jughead. It is especially conflicting because she meant what they’d agreed on - to keep their relationship (whatever it might be) on the down low.

But the _last_ thing she expected is to come to this party and see Midge fawning all over him - especially after he blew Midge off before.

She stands at the counter of the bar, ordering herself a vodka cranberry with 2 shots on the side. The bartender gives her a slightly judgy look, but she just glares back at him - she said what she said.

“Thanks,” she says before tipping one of the shot glasses back. It burns down her throat, and she chases it quickly with a gulp of her drink. She retches, the aftertaste lingering in her throat. She doesn’t usually drink like this, but she has no idea how she is going to stomach this night if she has to watch Midge make moves on Jughead completely sober all night.

And it isn't as though she can just tell anyone about her and Jughead. Not after she'd made such a big deal about keeping it quiet. But now suddenly her stubbornness seems to be overriding any form of logic – which is exactly Betty's problem with love and feelings is in the _first_ place. It makes people do stupid, illogical things.

And she can't _stand_ not being in control of her own emotions like this.

She tosses back another shot.

"Whoa there, turbo. Save some for the _rest_ of us," Midge laughs, appearing beside her.

_Great_ , just the person she wanted to see. Betty feels a tight, ever-polite smile stretch across her lips.

"I think you've already drank enough for the both of us," Betty quips, taking a small swig of her drink.

_Where is this coming from?_ Midge is her friend! It isn't her fault, she didn't know any better. She hated feeling like this. She tries to shake it off but then,

"So, what's the scoop on Jughead? Did he ever mention me?" she asks, like it is just typical, everyday girl-chat. Like her words have no meaning or repercussions. "Because I could certainly go for a round two," she says into her drink. Betty turns to her, folding her lips at first to stop the first thing she thinks from toppling out of her mouth.

"Okay. Midge. Jug has made it pretty clear he is not into you. Why are you putting yourself through this again?" She feels the alcohol going straight to her head, making her dizzy.

_And brave._

"And secondly, don't you think that if he were interested in you, he’d tell you?"

"I hear you!" Midge interrupts, shaking her head. She clicked her tongue, staring off in Jughead's direction. "Poor guy. He’s just so closed off. It’s like he doesn’t want to let anyone love him," she says, and the intimacy in that comment almost makes Betty’s blood boil. They hooked up once or twice, but she talks about him like she knows him.

Knows intimate, special things about him that Betty thought only she knew.

Midge shrugs, "I mean, at the very least, the guy can stand to get laid tonight."

"I'm am sure the last thing on Jughead's mind is getting _laid_ ," Betty scoffs, her nerves jangling just under the surface.

"I'll letcha know," Midge teases, walking off to go find Jughead with an extra drink in her hand. Betty’s mouth runs dry as she tries to steady her breathing, but it feels like the wind had just been knocked out of her.

'What am I even doing?' She thinks to herself. She had literally just arrived here from a date with another dude. She knows she has no room for all this jealousy. And while she also thinks she should just go get Jughead and leave before Midge has successfully sank her teeth into him for the evening, it wouldn’t be fair to Archie.

The whole reason they are here.

"Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?" Kevin appears before Betty can leave, taking a sip of his drink and snapping Betty back to reality. His attentions are somewhere else, however, as Betty traces his gaze over to a tall, dark, handsome guy on the other side of the room. Kevin leans in, "Can you believe he’s just over there, shamelessly flirting with the waiter?"

"Who is he?"

"Oh, my date? Nis name is Brandon. I literally met him two days ago. Sort of a last-minute decision," Kevin snorts into his drink. “But I’m pretty sure he’s not interested, though.

"Maybe he's… _friendly..._ " Betty says coolly. This is a wonderful opportunity to focus on anything other than Jughead and Midge. She shoves an elbow into his side, playfully.

"You gonna chicken out just because of a little ol' competition?" she asks, raising her eyebrows, until she instantly realized the parallels.

Her gaze involuntarily trails back to find Jughead, and Kevin’s follows. He is clutching a drink, backed into a corner again by Midge. Although, he doesn't seem to mind it as much as Betty would prefer. At the very least Betty is glad he seemed to be having a good time. Maybe she was overreacting... She knows Jughead cares about her. And she knows he is definitely not interested in _Midge…_

Although, he was at one point-

"Okay, is it just me, or has Midge has been all over Jughead tonight?" Kevin observes, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"Right?!" she exclaims a little too excitedly, her eyes wide. She calms herself, trying her best not to react too much. She just can't help the constant waves of jealousy welling up every time Midge's hand devilishly found Jughead's bicep or her beautiful eyelashes batted a little too much.

"Oh, well. At least _someone's_ gonna get laid tonight," Kevin sighs with a shrug. Involuntarily, Betty finds herself hitting Kevin in the arm.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" she huffs through gritted teeth. "Jughead doesn't need to get laid!"

"Ow, relax, Muhammad Ali, it was a joke. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," Betty utters back at him, quietly, peering back down at her drink in her hands.

"I just meant... I'm clearly not gonna be getting anywhere with my date tonight. Someone might as well-" Betty can't hear any more of this.

"Excuse me," Betty says abruptly before peeling off from Kevin, heading back out through the crowd and out the back door for some much-needed fresh air.

 

* * *

 

Archie and Veronica are so in love.

Betty watches Veronica as she run around the party with the world’s biggest, proudest smile on her lips. But she knows she’s just trying to stop herself from breaking down. Betty knows that when Archie leaves tomorrow, that facade will shatter.

Veronica is going to need her.

But for now, they are happy. Avoiding the inevitable. Wrapped up in their own little world.

Betty just watches them from her seat as they hold onto one another tightly, swaying back and forth while Josie sings a slow rendition of ‘ _Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?_ ”

She can’t help but feel ever-so-slightly forlorn as she stares on.  
“So… what happened with your date?”

Jughead is suddenly right up near Betty’s ear. She glances back at him over her shoulder, trying not to roll her eyes. She is still quite irritated with him from before. His deep blue eyes search hers intensely - she hates when he looks at her like that. It makes it hard to hard to think - makes it even harder to lie.

He nudges her softly, “Oh, c’mon. I’m a big boy. I can handle it-”  
“Nothing,” Betty snaps back at him shortly, and she is glad that wasn’t a lie. Nothing _did_ happen.

Nothing was ever going to happen.

“Are you still mad at me?” Before she can answer, he chuckles without humor as he frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. She can tell he’s feeling nervous without his hat - nothing to hide behind. “At least tell me why you’re mad. I mean, _you_ are the one who went on a date-” Betty turns in her chair, facing him. She stares at him incredulously before chuckling and shaking her head. He is so impossible

“You _reeeeally_ wanna fall down that rabbit hole?”

He closes his mouth and sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest sulkily, in defeat. Betty scoffs to herself and turns back to the watch the couples on the dance floor suddenly feeling very… _alone._

Usually, in instances like this, Betty never feels _too_ lonely. She is used to being the third, fifth, even seventh wheel. But something about watching Archie and Veronica on the dance floor right now makes her heart ache in her chest.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” she hears Jughead nearly mumble from behind her. She tries in vain to hold back the involuntary smile. It breaks through when he adds,

“fuckin’ gorgeous. Just like… _all_ the time.”

Betty sighs one of those deep sighs that fill up her lungs and makes her feel like she’s actually alive. She turns to him once more, and now she is only slightly irritated with that handsome, endearing smirk plastered on his face. She feels her smile grow with his.

“ _Ohh_ , Betts. Just can’t stay mad at me, can ya?”

She gives him a light push, “Shut up...”  

His smile dissipates, and she can see his wheels turning. It always makes her wonder what is going on behind those eyes. He leans in, his face more somber than before.

“Betty… _um…_ ” he begins. She feels her chest tighten because she never has any idea what is going to come from his mouth.

“Yes, Jughead?”

“Listen… about before… I _was_ being an asshole. I’m sorry about that.” She wants to tell him it is okay, that she understands him - maybe more than he knows. Definitely more than she’d care to admit.

Which was why she is so mad at herself for only shrugging nonchalantly and responding with, “whatever. It’s cool.”

That’s the thing… she’s been feeling a lot more for him than she wants to, these days. Sure, at first it was _fun_ and hot and _wrong_ and… so many other things.

But lately, she finds herself missing him when he isn’t there. She wants to know how his day is going or what he is doing. More than all that… she had started really getting used to the idea of having him around forever. When he pushed her away, it just made her realize that she is too vulnerable in this situation.

“ _Shit_ ,” he mutters off, quickly. He gestures towards the dance floor, “I didn’t even ask you to dance. Do you wanna dance?”

She _does_ , actually.

But the song is almost over, and she doesn’t trust herself around him, anymore.

And she doesn’t really trust him around her _heart_ , either.

She doesn’t reply with words, merely shakes her head. If she speaks now, she knows her voice will give her away.

“I feel like I’m always doing this stuff wrong,” he admits quietly before taking back the last of his champagne. Little does he know how well he is doing… _too_ well.

That’s the problem.

The few days leading up to her date with Adam had been… maybe the happiest she’s ever been. But until he pushed her away, she had forgotten how complex and difficult Jughead could be. He wasn’t easy to love - he never let himself be. 

“We don’t need to give those two anything else to talk about,” Betty shrugs when she notices Archie and Veronica noticing them. 

“Right,” Jughead says sharply - it’s clear from his tone alone that he doesn’t agree with her. Betty closes her eyes, even feeling the beginnings of tears - what the hell _is_ this?

Why is she feeling _so_ much, _so_ hard right now? She wants to blame the music. She wants to blame the champagne.

"Why don't you ask _Midge?_ " Betty asks him mockingly with a cavalier shrug, before she can stop herself. Jug stares at her for a moment before a big smile spreads across his face, then he starts to laugh. "What? Stop laughing at me!" Betty demands, frustratedly.

"Aw, Betty... are you jealous of _Midge?_ " Jug teases. He reaches over, taking her cheek in his hands. "Betts, you don't have to-"

"I'm not jealous," she lies, pulling away from him. Jughead's face takes on a more serious appearance when he realizes she is truly upset. "You can do whatever you want, Jug. It's not like you're my boyfriend or anything," she adds, ruefully.

Betty regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth, but between the alcohol and her raging jealousy she couldn't stop it from coming out. Jughead leans back from her and nods; he can't hide the hurt in his face.

"Ah, yeah. Nice," he mumbles, embarrassedly. Betty sighs, wishing she could take it back.

“I’m sorry, I _just_ -”

“I told Midge I wasn’t interested,” he tells her, flatly. “I told her it wasn’t going to happen for us - _ever._ ” Her shoulders slump, and she feels even worse.

“ _Jug-_ ”

“And I might not be your boyfriend, or whatever. But I still care about your opinion. And I’m not a total asshole who’s just going to hook up with someone to _spite_ you…” he tells her heatedly, but his voice softens, and his gaze falls to his fidgeting hands as he adds, “And it makes me sad you even think that-”

Betty twists in her seat toward him, “I _don’t_ think that.”

“What do you want, Betty?” he asks, looking like he is at a complete loss. “You want to date other people? _Fine._ You want to be exclusive? _Let’s do it._ But _what_ do you _want?_ ”

She turns back away from him, so he doesn’t see the tears burdening her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she chokes out, honestly.

Betty hears Jughead shift in his seat behind her.  He leans in again, this time sliding a gold hotel room keycard on the white tablecloth in front of her. Betty just stares down at it, her throat suddenly feeling dry.

“I’m going upstairs,” he murmurs into her ear. It takes everything out of Betty not to shudder at the feeling of his hot breath on her. “You can come up… or not. It’s okay, either way.”

She feels his presence leave her, and still she stares down at that key like it is the biggest decision of her life.

In a way… it kind of is.

Ever so slyly, Betty takes the card and slid it down onto her lap, then into her purse. She isn’t sure what she will do with it just yet… but she is glad she has the option.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Betty paces her hotel room now, occasionally looking at Jughead’s room key sitting on the table by her door. This is stupid, she thinks to herself; why is she letting it torment her so badly? 

Nothing has changed. Sure, they’d gotten into a little fight and in the heat of it, she went on a date with someone else.

But he wouldn’t have given her that key if he doesn’t want her to use it.

One might argue he is giving her the power. Instead, she is just trying to figure out how to use this key without being the ‘one who caved first.’  - As if that even matters!

Is it even important at this point? Is he not the first to cave, giving it to her in the first place?

“Fuck it,” she says under her breath. She’s overthinking. She hurries over to it, straightening it on the table, but then stepping away again.

For some reason, knowing that Jughead is only a few hallways down from her sets her on fire - which is strange, considering if they were home they would literally be in the same 800 square feet. But something about being away from him and missing the way his lips mold so perfectly over hers or the way he makes her moan his name like she’s possessed by something she can’t control makes Betty snatch up the key and leave her room in a hurry. She would never admit she’s been missing him since the moment she stormed out of the apartment in the first place. And she decides she isn’t going to deny herself of what she wants any longer - Life is too short.

Betty doesn’t even give herself a chance to change out of her black, strapless party dress. She could tell that Jughead had been wanting to get her out of it since he first saw her in it, so she is going to grant him that wish.

Betty is fast on her way down the first hallway, but as she rounds the second corner, she sees Veronica. She almost calls out to her before it occurs to her that she is literally on her way to Jug’s room. So, instead, she decides to take the long way around - no harm in making him wait a little longer. But when she gets to his room, turning the room key card in her hand over and over and over again, she fears she might lose her nerve.

Sure, she has the key, but it feels so… wrong. So invasive. She was never _that_ kind of girl.

So, like the well-mannered, polite girl Betty is, she brings her hand up to rap lightly on his door.

There is no sound on the other side, no rustle of footsteps. She waits a moment, tries again.

Still nothing.

Betty checks the room key number - it is correct. She hates doing this, because it is so out of her comfort zone, but she is determined to see Jughead one way or another. She slides the card through the reader, pleasantly surprised when the little light on the door flashes green and a small beep emits from the machine. She grips the door handle and slowly, hesitantly, lets herself in.

The first thing she notices are the candles everywhere. They are shining and illuminating the place like a cheesy Nicholas Sparks movie. It almost takes her breath away - the soft music and the candles made her feel almost giddy with anticipation just knowing it was all for her.

“Jughead?” she calls out, hearing the hotel room door click behind her as she steps in. She barely makes it a few steps before she feels arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her into that familiar frame of his.

“Gotcha!” he says into her ear. It takes her second to process everything, then relaxed in his arms. She feels his lips press against her jawline from behind. She smiles, her hands resting on his arms wrapped around her belly and leans into his lips, his breath.

“How’d you know I’d come?” she wonders aloud, her own voice feeling far away.

“I didn’t,” he admits, “Just hoped.”

Betty slinks around, her body refusing to leave his as she faces him, her forehead pressing to his. She gives him a soft headbutt, a groan.

“What’s it gonna take to make me stay away from you?” she asks him, her lips pursed and ready for his, but he doesn’t kiss her.

“All my effort goes into not asking myself that same question,” he teases back.

"Juggie... about before-" she begins, her apology ready, but then his hands rub up and down her back before his eyes pop open excitedly. He pulls away from her, the empty space between them now feeling like too much for her.

“Wait wait wait,” he instructs. He pulls out his phone. After a few moments of fidgeting, music changed, filling the echo-y hotel room. It was instantly recognizable to Betty. She glares at Jughead.

“Is this the song from before? When you _didn’t_ ask me to dance until the end?” she asks him skeptically, but she still pulls him back to her by his suspender strap to her. Jughead leans in close, falling into her.

“I’m making up for it now, aren’t I?” Jughead tells her, swaying her body with his.

“You’re still not off the hook, buddy,” Betty says quietly, and then admits, “okay maybe a little bit off the hook.” Jughead doesn’t tease her anymore, just holds her body close to his.

“I wish we could have danced downstairs,” he says somberly, changing the subject. "I should have just asked… I don’t know why I never say what I want to say to you...”

“You’re smooth, Jones,” Betty hums, letting his hands roam her body freely.

“You have no idea. I haven’t even shown you my best moves yet…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, they are _preeeeetty_ good. Irresistible, even.” Betty perks up onto her tiptoes, kissing him deeply, completely lost in the moment. She doesn’t care in the least that they didn’t dance downstairs - this is far more perfect than anything else she could have imagined.

Alone. Private.

When their breathless kiss breaks, they linger close to one another, unsure what to do next.

“See?” he says, his low voice raw, almost. “I told you.”

She catches some lyrics to the song playing softly nearby:

_“I'd like to know that your love_

_Is a love I can be sure of_

_So, tell me now and I won't ask again_

_Will you still love me tomorrow?”_

 

“This song is so…” Betty begins, and for some reason she’s out of breath. “Cheesy...” she finally snorts. Even though she loves the song, she suddenly feels very silly swaying with Jughead to it. Especially as it basically spills all her unspoken feelings toward him. Jughead laughs along with her.

“Oh, c’mon, Betty. You _love_ it.” Her eyes flutter open and meet with his, and she nods.

“I really do,” she confesses. "Jug, what I was saying before. I'm really sorry about... how I acted. And what I said-"

"I wasn't much better yesterday," he admits. "Maybe... some of these rules... maybe they're just a little bit..."

"Unrealistic?" Betty finishes for him. He nods, looks a little relieved she said it first.

"Betty... I know we aren't labeling this and I don't want to put more pressure on whatever this is but-"

"Jug, I don't want to date other people," she blurts, her hands slinking up behind his neck, and the look of pure relief on his face is something she thinks will forever be burned in her memory. "And I don't want you to, either."

"The Midge thing really got to you, didn't it?" he asks, and she just gives him a weak smile, a small roll of her shoulder. "I was a mess thinking about you out with that guy tonight. I almost didn't come. But I couldn't skip Archie's party. And then you came alone..." The end of his sentence lingers, a puzzle for her to finish for him.

"We didn't even finish dinner. He knew I was into someone else. I guess I made it pretty obvious." Jughead just smiles, sighing through his nose before he leans down, pressing another kiss against her lips softly.

“I have… another surprise for you," he says against her lips, "But, if you’re not into it, that’s okay…”

Betty pulls herself from him slightly, eyeing him nervously.

“ _Uhhhmm…_ ”

He laughs again quickly, “No, no, no, nothing weird,” Jughead laughs, letting go of her and walking towards a door to the left of them. He opens it up, nodding towards her to follow. Betty creeps forward, foregoing her shoes on her way and dropping in height. Jughead stands in the doorway, waiting for her to figure out what he was showing her.

Betty swallows hard when she sees it - the full bathtub. The steamy bathroom was full of candles, the tub full of bubbles. She glances at him; he’s got a sheepish grin on his face and a shrug on his shoulders.

“I just know how much you love baths… you take up the bathroom at the apartment for hours, sometimes. And this one is a soaking tub, so… didn’t want it to go to waste.”  
Her bare foot finds the cold tile of the bathroom as she steps in, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she nears the bathtub. There is still steam coming off the water - he must have just run the bath. He slowly shuts the door behind them, and Betty can’t seem find words to escape her lips for such a sweet gesture… all of it, actually.

The candles, the music… now this? This was a side of Jughead Jones she’s never seen before.

She nears him slowly, her hand finding his cheek before dropping down to her side, lazily. She turns around, pulling her hair over her shoulder, giving him a clear view of her zipper.

He doesn’t even ask if she wants him to unzip her as his fingers find the metal tab - he listens to the gentle buzz of the metal clasp sliding down, exposing the soft, milky white skin of her back. As soon as the zipper hits the bottom of her dress, Jughead’s hands slink in through the open back, wrapping around her belly as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, her shoulder.

Betty can’t help but shudder this time, being touched so softly and kissed so sweetly.

“Jughead,” she whispers as he helps her out of that dress he’s been dying to peel off her all night. “You have to get in with me,” she tells him, a weak smile on her lips as he continues to pepper kisses across her shoulder, her spine.

Once her dress falls to the floor, Betty turns around and began to disrobe him, one article of clothing at a time. She unbuttons his shirt with ease, then his pants. Jughead kisses her neck, her cheek. She is so glad he slipped her that room key.

After he is fully undressed, Betty nods toward the tub and he gets in without hesitation, settling into the hot, soapy water. He stares at her, leaning over the edge of the tub as she unclasps her bra, steps out of her panties. Betty feels like she is being studied, and yet is somehow at ease under his admiring eyes.

“Come on in…” Jug starts, leaning against the wall of the tub. “The wat-”

“If you say the water’s fine I might kill you.” He splashes at her.

“How rude, Betts. After everything I’ve done for you…” he tsks. She sees the two flutes of champagne waiting on the counter. She fetches them first, handing one to Jughead before slowly, hesitantly, stepping in between his legs and into the warm water.

Betty is already in heaven calf-deep - he was dead right. Betty loves baths.

She lowers herself in, clutching her champagne in her hand and trying desperately not to spill it in the water. 

After a moment, she settles in perfectly between his legs, her back pressing up against his chest and her head leaning on his shoulder.

“You good?” he asks. She nods with her eyes closed, exhaling deeply.

“ _Sooo_ good.” She takes another sip of her champagne, her head already dizzy from the two flutes she had in her own hotel room before, and everything she’d drank at the party.

“ _Seeee?_  I've got moves,” he whispers lowly in her ear, and Betty feels the bliss of his fingers ghosting over her skin under water, the comfort of his heart beating against her back. Still, she doesn’t answer him - her heart is beating fast and she’s not sure why. Maybe it was the way his hands smoothed over her thighs, resting comfortably between them.

She hates to admit how much she loved that feeling - that he is already so familiar and comfortable around her that this is like second nature now.  
Betty tips back her champagne, setting the glass down on the edge of the tub before rolling over, their slippery bodies never losing contact as she rests against him, her chin on his chest. She looks up at him through her half-lidded, lovesick gaze. Jughead reaches up and moves a wisp of golden hair from her face.

“Why’d ya do this?” she asks him.

“Because I know how much you love baths. And I don’t want you to be upset anymore,” he tells her. Betty grazes her thumb against her own bottom lip, feeling a little tipsy.

She slides up his body, kissing him on the lips, softly.

“And you don’t want me to be upset at _you_ anymore, right?” she whispers into his mouth. Jughead says nothing, just nods gently.

Betty sighs, collapsing against him and pressing her cheek up against his shoulder. Jughead ran his hands down her back, comfortingly, just trying to make her feel safe and protected - Betty is worried she might fall asleep right there.

“Betts?”

“Yes, Jughead?”

“You like me, right?” he asks, a slight crack in his voice that’s hard to ignore.

“Yeah, of course.”

“But I mean you… _like_ me, like me.”

Betty's head rises and she tries to look into his eyes and gauge just how serious he is. With Jughead, she can never truly tell.

“Why are you asking me this now?”

“I’ve liked you since high school,” he says, pulling her closer as he feels her body slipping down his. “Middle school, actually,” he corrects, then thinks back even further.

“Maybe always.”

A wry, knowing smile crossed Betty's lips.

“I know,” she tells him, softly.

“Why did you always come around after my mom and Jelly split?” he asks, suddenly taking the conversation in a heavy direction and Betty's smile wavers. “Was it because you liked me?”

“Jug,” she begins but chokes on her words. She’s been realizing more and more that even if she is feeling things for him lately, she still didn’t totally know what these feelings meant. It was still so new. And so intense. And she was still so uncertain what their future held.

“Was it?” It came out as a plea, and Betty felt her heart crack ever-so-slightly.

“It was because... You needed me,” is her diplomatic response, and she knows it is like a dagger to the heart for him, so she quickly adds, “and I needed you, you know? My life wasn’t particularly great at that time, either.”

Betty brings her wet hand up, pressing it against Jughead’s warm cheek.

“I _still_ need you,” she whispers, and Jughead’s eyes softened at her words. She can tell he is surprised that she said this to him - she is surprised, herself. It is the most vulnerable she’s ever let herself get around him. And although this moment is intimate and loving and tender… there is nothing sexual about it.

Maybe that’s what scares her the most.

They stay in the bath, laughing and enjoying each other's company until the water gets cold before he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he slips back into the hotel room. Betty gets out, wrapping herself up in a towel, as well. She shivers; the tips of her hair were wet, and it sends chills down her feeling it swipe across her neck and shoulders.

Betty steps out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She walks past a mirror hanging on the wall, and she stops at it. She admires her reflection, taking in the gentle curves of her heart-shaped face. She smiles when she sees Jughead come up behind her. His hands softly rest on her shoulders. He looks at her reflection, but she was looking down, seemingly lost in thought.

 “Betty…” he says her name in such a way that she looks up into his reflection. His hands move from above her shoulders and down her arms as he outlined her body. He stepped closer to her; she could feel the heat of his body behind her.

His eyes close as he tilts his head just slightly. He breathes in, parting his lips and letting out a warm exhale, the air flowing around her ear.

Betty’s own lips part at the sight, her eyes becoming half-lidded at the heat sweeping through her. She stares at his face as though she is seeing it for the first time. Why does everything feel different now?

 “So gorgeous…” she murmurs subconsciously - for since this all started, and probably even before then, Betty could not deny her physical attraction for him.

He cracks his eyes open at the compliment, his gaze meeting hers when he raises it to the mirror. He raises a hand again, this time sweeping all of her hair over her right shoulder.

He lowers his head further, his breath finding her neck and she almost hates herself when she has no control and tilts her head to feel him better, “You are so…unbelievably…sexy…”

His words hit her skin and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning.

His mouth, a mere centimeter away from her skin, trails the curve of her neck to her shoulder. His breath enters her soul as goose bumps rise up on her skin. She can even see the sharpness of her skin in the mirror and knows Jughead is aware of the reaction as well. Her knees quake at the sudden desire to fall back into him. As his breath ghosts back up to her neck, manages to grip her towel in one hand as her other one presses flat against the mirror. Her breath becomes heavier as she exposes her neck as much as she could and when she felt how it teases her collarbone, she lets her head fall back.

His warmth reaches her throat and her mouth drops open when she found she wanted him to sink his teeth into her.

_“God…”_ he mutters in the space between them, “Look at yourself, Betty…”

Swallowing roughly, Betty's eyes flutter open and look down her nose into the mirror like he commands.

She releases a breathy moan and brings her head forward again, this time pressing her forehead against the mirror. For how chilled she was before, and for all the goosebumps on her skin, she was now feeling rather flushed and the cool mirror helps relieve her in one way.

His lips linger on the back of her neck, over the back of her shoulders, and planted the softest of kisses between her shoulder blades.

She folds in her lips and shakes her head, wanting to speak but afraid it will come out as nothing more than an unadulterated moan. She feels the area between her legs begin to tingle and is pretty sure she hates herself for it. He has hardly touched her, and yet she is longing for him more than she ever has.

She can feel his bottom lip being tugged down as he lowers his mouth down the top of her spine. When he pauses, she curves her back, reflexively trying to urge him to continue. But her towel is in his way from continuing any further down.

Jughead slides back to her shoulder, his lips hovering. He nuzzles his nose against the spot above her ear, his breath warmly entering her brain through her auricle.

“I'm... so crazy about you, Betty," he whispers loudly, and his words made her whimper, the sound both desperate and pleased.

Betty releases the grip on her towel, and she feels it slide softly down her back and to the floor around her feet. He takes that as an open invitation as his breath swims down her spine, and the warmth radiating from his hands encloses her as he traces her small frame; it is like he is an artist that was trying to become his work.

She feels his breath in the space of her lower back and it is making her dizzy. And as his feather soft kiss landed on her lower back, she curves her back more and her knees continue to weaken. Her hand slides down the mirror as her body gives out until she is on her knees. He is on his as well, and she leans back into him, her eyes remaining closed.

He breathes her name against her temple before kissing her there. She slides her legs out from under her, as he lays her down on the carpet, the softness welcoming as her mind became fuzzier.

But then Jughead is hovering above her, breathing against her sternum. He travels to the valley between her breasts and to her stomach; He breathes down her right thigh, turning his head to let his lips slide down her inner thigh, then back up the other.

Betty bites her bottom lip hard when her legs spread because her body is demanding something she no longer has control over. And then she feels him against her center and she arches her back and clenches her fists, her nails scraping over the carpet in a failed attempt at grasping onto something.

"Jug," she gasps, her words caught in her throat and her fingers rake through his hair just to have something to grab on to as he tastes her. The initial contact makes her eyes roll back and her legs quiver - She feels his face press against the creases in her thighs as he began swirling his tongue around her most sensitive area. It only takes a few seconds before she realizes that she wants - no needs - something more than this.

Betty's breath hitches as she pulls herself up until she was sitting. He looks up at her and she can see the burning look in Jughead’s eyes again as she takes ahold of his face with her hands and forcibly brings his lips to hers. He scrambles up the length of her, falling to his elbow nearly on top of her when his lips collide with hers.

Her hands are in his hair, her fingers clenching when his tongue finds hers.

“You’re really gonna make it  _impossible_ to leave,” he murmurs against her, his voice somber.

She freezes for a moment, not remotely sure what such a cryptic statement like that could mean.

"What?" she asks, breathlessly. His eyes pop open, as though he didn't realize he'd said it aloud. He shakes his head.

"Nothing, nothing," he says quickly, and his lips are back to hers so fast she can't even begin to care to decipher it.

Betty jumps a bit when she feels his fingers ghost over her inner thigh before his hand presses firmly against her most sensitive area.

"Does this feel good?" he asks her, but her words get choked up in her throat and as she feels two fingers slide inside of her, all she is capable of is a short nod to answer his question. She feels her back arch involuntarily, noticing the way her body seems to move on its own accord at this point.

Jughead’s lips drag along her collarbone as he continued to work his fingers inside of her, and Betty feels how slick they became the more he moves. She grabs ahold of the first part of him she can reach, his bicep, as she squeezes her fingers into his skin and bit her lip to keep from moaning. This just seemed to encourage Jughead even more, and he seems to be getting worked up just by seeing Betty’s enjoyment.

Betty excitedly brings Jughead’s mouth to hers to lay claim to once more, imagining she was marking her territory for good. Something about this experience with him tonight makes her feel like a goddess.

Empowered.

Jughead slips his hand from her before he centers himself more upon her, Betty’s eyes crack open as she feels him graze against her, a different sensation. Betty lets her legs fall more open, and studies the concentrated, intense look on Jughead’s face as he prepares to enter her. Betty’s hand lightly touches his face and his eyes connected with hers, the final permission.

Jughead presses his hips forward into Betty once, cautiously, caringly. He feels searing hot inside of her, she wishes that they could stay like this forever. She wraps her arms tightly around him, pulling his chest close to hers in an embrace. She wants to feel everything: his staggered breathing against her neck, his dewy skin rubbing against hers, while she placed fleeting, sporadic kisses against his shoulder.

Jughead presses forward again, and he was gone. He begins to move against her with more stamina, and Betty begins to rock her body beneath him. They've done this before... plenty of times. But it never felt like this.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jughead’s low voice growls, most likely involuntarily. He runs his hand up her sides and Betty’s body spasms and slacks beneath him, unsure what sensation to focus in on more.

Although she is taken aback by the sudden feeling of his hand cupping over her breast, Betty focuses on the sensation of him sliding in and out of her, slipping against her wetness.

Jughead thrusts deeply into her as he slides his tongue deeper into her mouth, where he catches her soft moaning. She feels the tingling, hot sensation growing from deep within her. The way he is hitting her seems to be the right place, and when he kept deeper and closer contact it begins to send her over the edge.

She moans again, louder this time and again it just seems to encourage Jughead even more. Betty finds herself falling in love with the sounds of their mingled breaths and whimpers. Betty clenches her legs around him even tighter as she held back his name, which she wanted to say  _over and over and over again._

_"_ I love you _,”_ She hears him whisper, his voice rough with passion, raw and poisonous and carnal, and it causes her orgasm to hit her hard. Betty feels an unmistakable wave wash over her, then another. She tenses beneath him, her head falling back and her mouth opening for a soundless yell. Jughead catches sight of her ecstasy, a grin spreading across his lips as he quickens his pace.

It only takes a couple of Betty’s uncontrollable moans near Jughead’s ear and feeling her clench and flutter all around him before he moaned in accepted defeat as he came with her. His movements halt, shuddering a bit. Betty bites her swollen lip, her heart beating in her throat and her breath rapid.

She pulls Jughead’s agape mouth to hers once more. She opens her eyes and after his body begins to relax, he opens his as well. Their serious, intense faces don’t last, and before they know it they both break into delirious laughter. Jughead groans, and Betty doesn’t want him to leave her just yet.

But he does anyway, rolling beside her but quickly extending his arm out for her to lay her head on his chest. He reaches beside him and pulls over the forsaken towel, covering them lazily, with many parts of them still exposed.

Betty rolls onto her stomach, her chin on his chest as she stared up at him through glassy eyes.

“Well, that was pretty incredible,” Jughead announces, and Betty just groans playfully, her hand draping across her face. She can feel her hot cheeks and imagines they are bright red from the excursion and the sheepishness.

“ _Oh-ho-ho_ … suddenly we’re  _shy?”_ he says teasingly, poking her in the side. Betty giggles, removing her hand from her face to slap his prodding finger away from her.

She thinks about what he said right before the end... she could have sworn she heard him say he loved her.

Oh my God... she thinks to herself. She loves him, too.

She wants to tell him that, her mouth even geared up to as she quickly said, "Jug?"

He opens one eye peeking down at her before propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her. He stares back at her, waiting, but instead, she just says, ‘thank you.’

She doesn't know why.

He offers her a sideways smirk, pushing away a blonde lock that keeps falling into her eyes and then resting it against her cheek.

“So, is it safe to say we _won't_ be seeing other people?" he drones, his voice lower than usual. Betty leans into his hand, and he softly and lovingly grazes his thumb against her skin. She doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she leans down and kisses the skin of his chest once more.

“Sounds like a plan,” she exhales.

Betty loves the feeling of their sticky skin reconnecting as she leans her head down and presses her forehead to his. Jug’s hands run up the length of her back as he promises, “Because  _you and I?_  I think we might be endgame.”

Betty just smiles and presses a lingering, soft kiss against his lips. She nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of him, feeling complete as his arms wrap around her tightly. She lets out a long exhale, her heart finally feeling like it is beating at a normal pace and frequency.

She wishes the night would drag on forever, especially when she thinks back on what he said earlier, about how much harder it was going to be to leave.

What did that even _mean?_

* * *

 

Betty wakes up early.

She stayed the night.

However, she figures rules are completely out the window now. As they lay in the darkness together, Betty can focus on nothing more than the consistent, gentle sound of Jughead’s breathing. She studies his silhouette from her pillow, still wondering what he meant, before. Still wondering if she just imagined him telling her he loved her.

She leans over to the nightstand, checking her phone for the time - it's almost 5 am, and the low battery sign is flashing on her screen. She carefully gets out of the bed, creeping around and peeking at the outlets to find a charger, but not finding one.

She crouches down to his overnight back, rooting around inside on the off chance that he packed one. She uses the remaining light on her phone as a flashlight as she searches, hearing something crinkling in the bottom of his back.

She pulls out a folded piece of paper, slightly crinkled. Curiosity gets the best of her and she unfolds it.

It's a letter from Time - the internship she has watched Jughead pine over years now.

She wants to be happy for him, but her stomach sinks at the word, ' _congratulations_.'

* * *

 

 

 

tbc

 


	8. i'll never fall in love again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I didn’t plan for this ending up so sad. I’m sorry in advance. BUT next chapter will right all the wrongs.

 

* * *

Jughead’s confused.

He and Betty had an amazing, mind-blowing, intimate night together, and yet ever since, she’s been… distant.

He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something has shifted. Maybe it was all too much. Maybe she was a little too tipsy and said some things she didn’t mean… things she regrets. The thought of that alone is like a punch to the stomach - what did he do wrong?

He notices the change pretty quickly - when he awakens to Betty collecting her clothes in the morning at the hotel.

“You stayed the night,” he says, sleep still thick in his throat.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Her immediate reaction is confusing to him - had they not just had the most amazing night ever? And now she seemed to be in such a rush.

“Come here,” he says, his hand reaching out toward her. She looks conflicted, and after a few hesitant seconds, she slowly climbs back into the bed with him, snuggling up close. Jughead holds her to his chest, feeling a little more at ease now that he at least got her to settle back in.

“Jug…” he hears her say after a long moment.

“Mmm?” he hums back, his grip tightening on her. There’s another long pause, before she simply says, ‘nothing.’

 

When they get home, she spends a lot of time over at Veronica’s. She says it’s just because Veronica needs her, and at first Jughead doesn’t think much of it. But then it becomes more and more until he hardly sees her. When he does, they might kiss and have sex, but it doesn’t feel the same as it did that night at the hotel.

He tries to chalk it up to her trying to be a good friend to Veronica, but then he notices that she isn’t looking him in the eyes as much… things are different.

And he doesn’t know why.

He thinks about telling her about Time Magazine a hundred times, but he’s scared of pushing her away even more. When he tries to talk to her, she’s elusive.

And now here he is, sitting on his bed as the clock ticks later and later, waiting for Betty to come home so he can talk to her about it all.

 

Meanwhile, Betty chews on her lip, her impatient eyes darting to the clock every few moments. She’s over at Veronica’s - she’s been spending a lot of time over here. While she wants to believe it’s to comfort her friend (Veronica has been nothing less than a mess since Archie left, God bless her), she can’t help but feel like she’s avoiding Jughead.

 _No_ , she’s _definitely_ avoiding Jughead.

It’s been over a week, and he still has yet to even mention his acceptance letter. When she thinks about him going, her heart breaks. When she thinks about _not_ going - especially because of _her_ \- her heart breaks even more.

But more than all that… he’s not telling her anything. Why isn’t he telling her?

Veronica is having one of those nights where sleep isn’t coming so easily to her, so the two girls are zoning out together on her couch in the dark living room, watching late night television.

Betty had gotten a text from Jughead over an hour ago, but she has no idea how she is supposed to slip off without it seeming suspicious. She is also curious how to sneak off with Veronica’s head resting on her lap.

“How many baby daddies does this woman have?” Veronica yawns, staring at the late-night talk show on in front of them. Betty leans forward to see her face, noticing that her eyes are tired and half-lidded.

“The preview said five,” Betty replies in a whisper, absently stroking Veronica’s dark, silky hair. On the arm of the couch beside her, her phone buzzes. She reaches over and checks the message.

 

 **Jughead** [2:32am]: _???_

 

Betty sighs, and then sees another text pop up; it was about 10 sleepy emojis in a row. Betty smirks and shakes her head, forgetting he can’t see her.

 

 **Betty** [2:32am]: V is having a rough night. Won’t sleep. I’m trapped.

 

 **Jughead** [2:33am]: We can drug her with some sleeping pills… I think I have some in the bathroom.

 

His dark joke remains unanswered, as Betty is too busy sliding her thighs out from underneath Veronica’s head, trying not to wake her. She steadily replaces them with a pillow, inch by inch, as she scoots, finally breaking free with no stir from her friend.

Before she can heave out a sigh of relief, however, she hears Veronica moan, “ _Bettyyyyy_ , where’re you going?” Betty leans down, covering Veronica up and shushing her.

“I just have to pee,” she whispers, and Veronica turns onto her side and seems to doze back off quickly. Betty doesn’t even text Jughead back before she turns and hurries out the front door of Veronica’s apartment and into theirs. When she barges into his bedroom, he looks surprised.

“ _Finally_ ,” he exclaims, tossing his cell phone onto his bed. “I was starting to thi-” he pauses when Betty slips her shirt off with urgency, her eyes on fire. “ _Whaaat_.. are you doing?”

“We have to be quick,” Betty whispers, although she’s not sure why. Veronica is clear in another apartment. “I don’t know how long Veronica’s going to be out for. Last time it was only fifteen minutes-”

Betty stops wasting their time explaining and pulls Jughead in for a kiss instead, wrapping her arms around his neck forcibly. Jughead’s eyebrows raise in surprise at her aggressiveness. He takes ahold of each of her wrists in his hands and pulls her hands from his neck before breaking the kiss.

“Well, um… first of all, _hi_ ,” he says, almost out of breath. He can see that Betty is impatient. “And second of all, what makes you think you can just barge in here, use me for sex and then run off on your merry way?” he teases her, and the offense in his tone is _almost_ believable - especially when he folds his arms and takes a step back from her. Betty looks dazed, shaking her head in confusion.

“I mean… that’s the plan, _right_?” she asks, narrowing her eyes and her words growing cuttingly sharp. “Like, that’s what we agreed on.”

Jughead is taken aback, unsure what to say to that. “ _Wow_ … _uhh_ -”

She looks severe, but her voice shakes as she asks him, “Did you forget what this is?”  

The words are like a punch to the gut, and he is shocked by her bluntness. He has always suspected that she doesn’t like him as much as he likes her, but to have it so clearly drawn out for him this time... it’s bordering on painful.

Maybe… maybe she _doesn’t_ feel the same way he thought she felt in that hotel room. Maybe… he’d just imagined it. Maybe he’d wanted it _so badly_ that he misread her.

He needs to let it go - she’s right. They both know what this is. And evidently, Betty isn’t ever going to feel the way he feels. And worse, she is never going to want to tell the world she is sleeping with, hanging out with, or even maybe loves Jughead Jones.

Not in the past.

Not now.

Clearly not _ever_.

How did he let himself fall for her knowing she can’t and won’t ever reciprocate those feelings?

He knew better. He has no one to blame but himself. It’s just… the other night, when they spent the night together… it really felt like the beginning of something amazing.

“Uh… no. Nope, I got it,” he replies curtly, just hoping she can’t detect the hurt in his voice when he says it. Jughead never thought Betty was so capable of (and willing to) destroy him in merely six words. He didn’t realize he’d given her that power.

So, with all these racing thoughts in his mind, Jughead couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he is letting her kiss him again, pulling him down on top of her on his bed. He feels like he is pretending - that they both are.

Like none of this is even real. He grips onto her and holds her close to him, gets into character - the character of a guy that Betty would actually be proud to be with.

Not him.

Jughead likes that better, being someone else.

Betty's lips trail down his jawline, his neck, and all she can think about was how mean she’d just been, almost enough to make her want to stop and apologize… but _no_ . Betty realizes, however, she was less upset about that and more upset that even with his due date looming nearby, he still hadn’t told her about New York - what was he doing? What were _they_ doing?

It’s like she had said before: someone was going to get hurt. And the way he looked at her only a moment ago makes her quite sure that someone already _had_.

Those thoughts went to the back of their minds when he enters her and, despite himself, Jughead smiles when he hears her faint, breathy gasp circling his ear. He can tell by the way she moves beneath him - deliberate and determined - that this isn’t going to be one of their longer sessions.

And he supposes that was okay… he can’t enjoy it like he usually did anyway, not with her words repeating over and over again in the back of his mind.

_Did you forget what this is?_

To add insult to injury, when it is over, Betty pops back up onto her feet almost instantly - it is as though everything they’d experienced at Archie’s going away party _never_ even happened. She begins redressing, pulling her hair up into a messy bun and securing it with an elastic band before slipping on her thin, gauze-like tank top that hangs loosely on her body. She won’t look at him and it makes his stomach swirl.

“Betty,” he says quickly as her hand reaches for his doorknob. She flinches a bit, pulling in her lips when she turns back towards him and raised her eyebrows, giving him a shrug that said, ‘ _what?_ ’

Jughead almost doesn’t say anything more, almost lets her just walk out, but instead, he retrieves his boxers that have been cast aside and puts them on before sitting at the end of his bed. Jughead literally bites his tongue to keep from saying something stupid.

“Yes, Jughead?” she asks when he didn’t respond at first. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“You’re leaving,” he replies. “Just like that. No goodbye. _Nothing?_ ”

She crosses her arms over her chest and shifts her weight on her feet - she is uncomfortable. He can always tell when he did that to her.

“That’s kinda what we do, right?” she asks, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear and re-crossing her arms. She was closed off.

“No, that’s what we _used_ to do. And even then, not _really_. You still respected me enough to say goodbye…” He stands, crossing his own arms, mirroring her completely. “Or at least have the decency to look me in the eyes.”

He knows she doesn’t want to have this conversation.

Hell, he isn’t even sure he does.

But it is about time - these feelings he has for her are way out of control, now. It was the most beautiful masochism, loving her when she could not love him back. He’s been bottling them all up that they keep slipping out, and if he doesn’t just get them out, he will explode.

“Do you really want to leave?” he asks, his voice noticeably cracking. Her head lowers a bit, her eyebrows furrowing as she gives him a small nod. It is a stab to his heart, but he doesn’t let it show. He swallows and clenches his jaw, trying to keep himself from getting too worked up.

“ _Why?_ ” he asks, “why can’t you just stay for a little while?”

She drops her arms to her side like they weigh a ton, “Jughead… we-” she pauses and gives a slight shrug when she sees him staring back at her with sad, expectant eyes. “Because that’s what we agreed on, Jughead. Look, I know things felt - _different_ … at the party but... “ Her words trail off and she sighs, taking a step towards him. “Jughead, it would _never_ work-”

“ _Why?_ ” he asks again, but it is short and crisp - one second longer and it might have sounded like he is choking up. He doesn’t want her to see him like that. “I thought our rules were clear, but lately it’s been different with us and... I guess I don’t understand what’s going on here. What are we to you?” he asks. She stammers, but he doesn’t want any more half-truths or hidden feelings. “No, Betty. What are we… _to you?_ ”

“You’re my best friend-” she finally chokes out. She’s not even done with her sentence before he digs in.

“Oh, _bullshit_ , Betty!” he finally snaps, and she flinches when his voice raises. “Friends don’t fuck each other, literally and then figuratively.”

“Jug-” she tries, but he’s too heated to listen to her.

“So what? _Sometimes_ we’re friends? Sometimes we’re more than friends?  Well, that’s all good and fine but… right now? You’re treating me like I’m _nothing_. That’s not how you treat your friends.”

Betty feels horrible. She can feel the lump in her throat growing to the size of a golf ball. It aches. Her initial instinct is to be defensive, but instead, she just breathes slowly through her nose, waiting for him to finish.

“If you don’t find a way to let someone in, you’re going to end up alone _forever_. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to love someone? Really connect with someone you care about?” He stares at her with those eyes, the ones that pull her in every time. And she wants to give him all the answers he wants to hear… but she just can’t.

“Do _you_ want those things?” she asks him, and they both know she is side-stepping the topic.

“Yeah. Maybe.” he snaps, his passion turning into frustration quickly. “But that isn’t the point. I’m asking _you_ . Don’t _you_ want someone to open you up to even the slightest possibility of love? Don’t you want to stop pushing people away and actually _let_ someone love you?”

“ _Jughead-_ ”

“I’m _tired_ of being your secret shame, Betty. It might have only been the last few weeks for you, but for me? It’s been _forever_ . I’m tired of not only hoping you’ll see me _for real_ , but that you could actually bring yourself to _love_ me.”

He hates saying it. He hates laying it all out there for her to stomp on, but he has to. He feels his eyes sting with tears but he doesn’t let them come.

He shakes his head, “And I know, this isn’t _fair_ . This isn’t what we ‘ _decided_ ’ on…. But I decided on _you_ , Betty. Do you _understand_ that? It happened a long time ago and I didn’t even have a choice in the matter. But I _decided_ on you. And you won’t let me in. And it makes me feel like shit.”

He collapses back down at the foot of his bed, groaning into his hands and rubbing them down his face. It is exhausting just to say this to her. He doesn’t even know why he is. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was busy coming up with the easiest way to let him down.

He finally finishes telling her, his voice low, “I’m _tired_ of feeling like shit. I’m tired of being treated like I’m everything and nothing at the same time.”

“I-” Betty chokes, shaking her head and holding onto herself tightly again. “I don’t- I don’t really know what to say-”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Jughead grumbles under his breath, but then instantly regretted it. He wasn’t _mad_ at her. He couldn’t be mad at her for not feeling the same way he felt.

He just wants her to love him, _damnit_.

“Don’t you want those things?” he asks her again.

Betty thinks for a moment. She isn’t sure what she feels for Jughead, anymore. It’s like the second she felt herself starting to fall for him, she cut it off like a severed limb. The night she spent with him was amazing… and then she found that letter. And she realized he was just going to leave her.

And so she did what she did best: self-sabotaged. And she doesn’t know why she is this way.

And he was right. It _wasn’t_ fair to keep him when clearly he felt so strongly about her. She envied how sure he was about these things, while she was so confused and scared.

“I mean… yes. I _do_ -” she admits, biting her lip while her eyes welled with tears. “ _But…_ ” Jughead stares at her intently until suddenly, it just clicks in his mind.

He nods, acknowledgingly.

“But...Not with me.” She steps towards him quickly, trying to comfort him in some way, but that just makes it that much worse. He stands and shrugs her hands from him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t even need to discuss it anymore. It is humiliating enough as it is.

“It’s not _you_ , Jughead-”

“Are you seriously tying ol’ _it’s not you it’s me_ trope _again?_ Please, Betty. I’ve seen a lot of movies. It’s not original. And it’s not true. Of _course_ it’s me.” He leans back on his bed, his heart hardening.

He was stupid to ever let her in. He knew better. He fucking _knew_ better.

“Okay,” Betty finally barks at him, her fists balling angrily. “Maybe it _is_ you.”

“At least you can admit it-”

“Maybe it’s because you still haven’t told me you’re leaving in a couple weeks Jughead! Maybe… maybe I’m trying to protect myself from the fact that you’re going to be gone for a year, and you don’t even have the decency to tell me!”

A wave of heat washes over Jughead, he feels nauseous, “How did you know about that?” he asks her as evenly as he can. “Did Archie tell you about that?”

Betty scoffs, shaking her head. Her shoulders slump, disappointedly.

“Archie knows?” Jughead doesn’t reply to that. “Well, no. Archie didn’t tell me. I found it in your bag.”

“Well, I don’t even know if I’m going,” Jughead murmurs, sitting back down on the end of the bed. “If you would have just _asked_ me-”

“What!” Betty nearly shouts, “what, of _course_ you’re going! And I am going to be _devastated_ when you leave.” Jughead freezes at her confession - he hates that it makes him feel good that the prospect of him leaving makes her sad. “But I will _hate_ you if you don’t go.” Betty nears him and he lets her now. She drops to her knees in front of him, her hands instinctively reaching for the sides of her face. “This is all you’ve ever wanted.”

“ _You_ are all I’ve ever wanted,” he says aloud, and it feels like he’s being both crushed and relieved by this admission at the same time.

Especially as she somberly shakes her head, “I can’t let you stay behind for me. And I can’t bear to watch you go. It is going to _kill_ me. I’ve been distant because somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, Jughead. And it was the last thing I was expecting… and now I don’t know how to even look at you without hurting.”

They stare at one another - they are at an impasse here. A stalemate. She will never forgive him for staying, and he will never forgive her for letting him go.

Betty slowly rises to her feet, the tears in her eyes dangerously close to spilling over.

“I think I’m going to stay with V for a couple days. She needs me and.. And I really just need some space right now to sort out… everything.”

“So. This is done then, yeah?” He sniffs. Betty swallows down the giant lump in her throat and nods.  

“Yeah, I think so… for now,” she says, her voice shaking. “We said we would do this until it wasn’t fun anymore and-”

“ _Right_ ,” he agrees sharply.

“It probably wasn’t one of our best ideas, anyway,” she quotes him with a small smile, as though that would make it hurt any less.

It doesn’t. For either of them.

“You know I love you too, right?”

Betty slowly nods.  

“Jughead… I really don’t want to lose you as a -”

“As a what? As a friend?” he finishes for her quickly. He knows that’s what she was going to say. Betty has a habit of speaking in cliches. And he’s heard and seen them all. She nods, her eyes wide, and he ponders it for just a moment before he shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “I just… I don’t really see how that’s possible right now,” he says in almost a whisper. “I don’t know if I will _ever_ be able to _just_ be your friend, Betty.”

And somewhere inside of her, she knows he is right. They’d been through too much together.

Betty drags her feet over, sitting side by side with him on the bed.

“You said… you said we were friends before anything else,” she reminds him.

“We both said things…”

“I’m sorry,” she says simply, her voice the smallest thing in the room. Jughead offers her a tight, small smile, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Don’t do that. We’re not going to do that,” he tells her. His face softens when he really sees the sadness in her eyes. He knows she wasn’t trying to hurt him on purpose. They just weren’t meant to be anything more than this right now. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to the side of her temple and she closes her eyes, letting herself lean into him. She wants so badly to fall back into his arms, but it is just best they take their space.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he finally tells her. “This isn’t your fault. And.. at least only for a _little_ while… I got to feel what it was like to have you see me as… as something more than your goofy friend. So. It was kinda worth it.”

“You were always more than that to me, Jug.” She takes in a deep shaky breath, and then, “wow… this really hurts.”

Jughead huffs out a tired, sad laugh, “ _Good_.”

She eyes him from the side, “Good?”

“Because if it hurts… it means it meant something.”

They sit in silence for a long moment, waiting for the other to say something, but they both resolve that there is nothing left to say.

“I’m gonna-” Betty mumbles, slowly standing.

“Yeah.” She glances at him one more time.

“I’ll uh… I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

When Betty closes the door behind, her she finally feels the tears that had been wanting so badly to escape roll down her cheeks. She hides her face in her hands, shaking her head and wondering why things had to end this way - why they had to end at all.

Betty hurries back across the hallway, where she’d left Veronica what felt like forever ago. She had no idea that her quick visit with Jughead was going to end so horribly, and her heart aches in her chest the farther she walks away from his room.

When she entered Veronica’s apartment, she sees that Veronica has woken back up and is sitting on the couch cross-legged in the dark. The talk show they’d been watching had ended, and Veronica was watching some endless loop of infomercials.

“Betty, these knives can cut through anything, even _soda_ cans-” she says, astonished. She looks up at her friend and instantly knows something is very wrong. Betty has wiped the tears away, but there is no denying she’s been crying.

“Oh my God, Betty, what’s wrong?”

Betty doesn’t say anything, just sits beside her and tries her best to keep from breaking down in front of Veronica. Veronica wraps her arm around the blonde, trying to comfort her but having no idea how - Betty isn’t typically the kinda girl who cries, so Veronica has very little experience in this.

“Are you... _okay_?” she asks, and Betty nods at first, then closes her eyes as they refilled with tears and she shakes her head instead. “What’s wrong?” Betty wipes her eyes again, frustratedly. She hates feeling this way. She feels weak. Stupid. She turns to her best friend and sniffles before giving her a weak smile.

“I can’t tell you,” she whispers. And Veronica nods slowly, knowing better than to push her any further. She just leans her head on Betty, who leans back, as they watched the knives on TV cut through a rack of ribs - and Betty can’t help but liken the image to the way her heart feels at this very moment.

She can't help but think... _I should have kissed him goodbye._

* * *

tbc

 

  
  
  



	9. it must have been love (but it's over now)

* * *

 

Everything is gray.

Color has drained from Jughead’s existence and  _ yes _ , he realizes how melodramatic this is, but he doesn’t even care. He replays every single moment with Betty in his head since Valentine’s day - a holiday he loathed already.

Now, he  _ utterly  _ despises it.

Jughead hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch all day. He tries to tell himself that he deserves a lazy day for no reason, but there is  _ definitely _ a reason. 

It has now been three days and twenty-one hours since he saw or talked to Betty and it is  _ draining.  _ It is like losing his best friend and the love of his life all at once. He tries to figure out just why - and how - things went so horribly wrong. 

He thinks about every time he should have just been honest with her - how he shouldn’t have pushed her. How he shouldn’t have pretended he is okay with something that he clearly couldn’t handle.

How he should have brushed her golden hair from her face and been a man and asked her on a real date. 

The doorbell ring, making him groan. 

_ Whyyyy.  _

Sucking it up, he pulls himself from the couch and drags his feet to the front door. He can’t help but wonder if it could be Betty, coming back to him. The thought alone gets his heart pounding in his aching chest and it is the first time he felt it this strong since the last time he held her in his arms.

His skin feels sweaty as he tries to calm his breathing. If he opens the door and she threw herself into his arms, the first thing he would do is pour his heart out and get out everything he’d left unsaid.

Jug unlocks the door and pulls it open - instead of the beautiful blonde he is hoping for, it’s a raven-haired beauty instead. Still beautiful, but certainly not someone he is wanting to see right now. 

“Betty’s not here,” He tells Veronica, but then he realizes that since Betty is staying with her, she must already know that.

“I’m not here to see Betty,” she says, her voice softer than he’s used to. She has a sympathetic look in her eyes that makes him realize Betty must have told her everything.

“I’m not in the mood for guests,” Jughead mumbles, rubbing his face hard with both of his hands, wishing he’d just stayed on the couch.

“Okay but… can you tell me what’s going on with Betty? I’m… actually worried about her. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

Jughead’s body runs cold upon hearing her name aloud. He presses his palms deep into his eye sockets, his teeth gritting as he forces himself to not slam the door. He underestimated how painful this would feel.

His arms come down to his side fast as he says, “we’re fine.”

Veronica winces her face, rolling her eyes. She folds her arms over her chest and shifts all of her weight to one hip as she sarcastically comments, “oh  _ yeah _ , Jug. You both  _ really  _ seem fine.”

“I’m sorry to be short but… Can you just leave now?” Jug asks bluntly because, honestly, he just wants to go back to his couch and hope the night doesn’t last too long.

“You got booze?” Veronica asks instead, pushing past Jughead and going into his kitchen. Jug’s shoulders slump as he slowly turns to see Veronica opening and closing cabinets until she finds the one that housed a single bottle of sickeningly sweet liqueur. She grabs the bottle with bright, swirling liquid, squinting to read the label, “ Amalfi Coast, prickly pear liqueur… _ ooooh, _ fancy!”   She smirks and grabs two glasses, holding them up for Jughead to see, “I’m ‘ _ fine,’ _ too. And I think we both need this.”

Jughead feels bad - he didn’t even think about how distraught Veronica must be with Archie leaving.

Against his better judgment, Jughead pushes the front door closed, “If you’re trying to get me drunk to get some kinda info outta me…”

“I’ll try to keep my mind games to myself,” Veronica promises, already heading toward the back living room, and Jughead follows without too much complaint.

“What’s all this?” she asks, staring straight down into an open cardboard box sitting on the coffee table. “Moving boxes? Is that why you guys are fighting?” Veronica digs in immediately.

“I got an internship at Time. Figured you would know by now.”

Jughead slumps into the couch, his neck resting on the back as he stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t even bother sitting himself up when Veronica hands him the glass of alcohol. She clinks their glasses together before taking a seat on the other side of the couch.

“Well congrats on your amazing opportunity,” she says. They both wince as the first shot of burning liquid slid down their throats. “But I thought that doesn’t start for a few more weeks?”

Jughead rolls a shoulder, his face warm from the liqueur already, “not much of a point of dragging it out. I already dropped my classes so I can pick them back up in New York.” 

He’d made that decision impulsively the moment Betty called things off. When he walked into their shared living room, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to escape her, so he logged onto his student page and dropped everything. He went into the storage and grabbed some of their leftover moving boxes.

And he finally responded to the letter, stating his acceptance.

“Speaking of which, If you can, will you ask Betty if she wants to stay on the lease, or what she wants me to do-”

“Okay, that’s it,” Veronica snaps, setting her drink down on the table with a  _ thud _ . “What  _ happened _ with you two?”

Jughead shakes his head, “Don’t think she’d want me to tell all her dirty secrets…”

“I’m not asking you to kiss and tell,” Veronica smirks.

“I - thought...I could make her happy. Turns out - I  _ can’t _ . Simple. Because she doesn’t know what she wants.” 

There. His shame is out there for the world to know - or Veronica at least, and, as sad as it is, Veronica is about as far as his world goes at the moment. Betty is gone. Archie is gone. He has no one.

“Ah,” is the only response Veronica can muster at first, and Jughead fidgets. 

He hates talking about himself like this. Putting the spotlight on his problems makes him feel uneasy and, though he’s come to realize that harboring them is worse, spilling his guts to just anyone isn’t in his nature. The closest he got is with Betty, but the sudden thought of lying in that bathtub with her, their naked bodies pressed together as they spoke softly to each other, leaves a gaping wound in his gut.

“You now… sometimes, people don’t know how to love you the way you want to be loved. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you… it means you have to show them,” Veronica smiles softly, giving him a slight nudge.

Jughead nods, once again feeling like a jackass for wallowing while he knows Veronica must be hurting, too.

“What about you? How are you holding up?” Jug asks into his drink, trying to steer the conversation away from him and Betty.

Veronica sighs so heavily, it is like the air is crushing her lungs, “I don’t know… sometimes I think I’m okay, but then other times it’s like… like I’m trying to learn how to live with my heart outside of my body.”

Jug thinks this sounds familiar… he is feeling the exact same way. Still, he hears himself saying, “Well, at least Archie actually wants to be with you.”

Veronica cocks her head to the side, nodding quickly, “Betty’s never really known what she wants, has she? Certainly not what’s best for her… How long has -  _ whatever it is _ \- been going on with you two?” she wonders, taking a small sip.

“Since Valentine's day,” he admits, mostly into his glass. He wonders just how she got him talking. She’s too good at this stuff. 

“But it’s been longer than that for you… hasn’t it?” Jughead just stares at her and she sighs, “look… I know. I’ve known for a long time. I think we all have. Everyone except Betty that is. But I’ll tell you what… the last few weeks, I’ve never seen her so happy. You did that. You guys could be really good for each other if you’d just talk this stuff out.”

“She was happy?”

“Yeah… She wouldn’t tell me why but I definitely saw it in her. And now she’s  _ miserable _ .”

“She… she  _ is? _ ” His voice is too hopeful for his own liking. Veronica tucks a long strand of dark hair behind her ear and nods once in affirmation. 

“How miserable?” he asks her, and he feels a tinge of guilt from his relief. At least she cares.

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m not giving you any intel until I know exactly what I am dealing with here. So you’re gonna spill first, Jones.”

Jughead hesitates, but figures he has nothing to lose, now.

And possibly everything to gain.

“How much time do you have?” he asks her, settling back into the couch.

Veronica smirks, refills her glass, and then leans back, coolly.

“ _ Okay… _ ” she says, lifting her feet up and crossing them on the coffee table. “Start from the beginning, and  _ don’t _ miss a single detail.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh,  _ Beeeeetty... _ ”

The sound of Veronica’s voice causes Betty to stir. She groans, rolling into her pillows and away from the intrusion. The bed bows, and Betty can feel it bending to the weight of Veronica climbing up beside her.

“Lil’ Baby- _ Beeeetts _ ,” Veronica searches for her within the goosedown and satin. “ _ Wakey-wakey, _ ” she coaxes, as though she is trying to awaken a sleeping toddler for preschool. 

“Five more minutes,” Betty’s muffled voice replies.

“Don’t make me come in there,” Veronica threatens, slipping under the covers and sidling up to her best friend, pulling the blankets up over their heads. They lay under the sheets, and Betty turns to her side, facing her with sleep still in her eyes. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Veronica greets her with a bright, beaming grin.   


“What time is it?” Betty asks groggily, but her lips still curve up in a smile.    


“Noon. You’ve been sleeping for sixteen hours.” Betty gives a bit of a shrug.    


“I’m just tired…” she reasons, and it is almost an inarguable point.    


“I know,” Veronica says quickly. Betty would have said more - she  _ wants  _ to - but Veronica’s dark eyes tell her she doesn’t have to: She already knows. “Just… checkin’ in.”   


“I’m fine… _ really _ .” Veronica rolls her eyes.

“You guys sure love that word, don't you?” she mutters under her breath. 

“How much do you know?” Betty finally asks. 

“Most, if not _ all _ .” Betty groans, hiding her face behind her hands. “What the hell were you guys thinking, trying the casual sex thing without my supervision? Or at least my wise advice and guidance?”

“It was a mistake.”

“That’s not what _ he _ thinks,” Veronica shrugs, and Betty peeks at her through her fingers.

“How… wait,  _ what? _ You talked to him? I figured you heard from Archie-”

“Even Archie  _ knew?? _ He is really gonna get an earful from me.” 

“Well, he just sorta pieced it together. And apparently Jughead ran his big mouth.”

“Have you even talked to Jughead since you guys called things off?” Betty opens her mouth to speak, her eyebrows creasing together in a look of guilt before she simply closes her mouth and shakes her head slowly. “Why not?” Veronica’s voice curls into a bit of a beg.   


“Do I really need to answer that for you, V?” 

“Are you sure this is even what you want? You seem  _ completely _ heartbroken… way more than someone who was just supposed to be a casual fling.”

“Of course I don’t,” Betty replies, timidly chewing on her lip. Her emerald eyes flicker up to Veronica’s dark ones. “I… I think I’m in love with him, V,” Betty admits. She scoffs and rolls her eyes at herself as soon as she hears the words leave her lips. It sounds so weird to say it aloud. Veronica cocks an eyebrow at her friend, and Betty shakes her head. “I mean, I think I am. I don’t know what I feel, anymore. I tried really hard to fight it - but after Archie’s party? Something changed. I was all in.”

“What changed? The  _ Internship? _ ” Veronica presses, but before Betty can even answer Veronica goes on, “You think Archie and I are pushing each other away because of a little distance? We spent our last days together  _ non _ -stop-”

“It’s different,” Betty laments.

“Why?”

“Because you and Archie have been together forever. And you aren’t  _ broken  _ people. And you guys are in love. I am not even sure why I have to explain this-”

“You’re in love, too!”

“It will never work, V. He’s leaving. And not just for a few months. For a whole year. And when he gets hired on - and he will -  _ then _ what?”

Veronica’s hand reaches out, resting on her best friend’s cheek, “then you figure it out. What are you so damn afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Betty admits. “I honest to God have no idea.”   


“Well… you better get over it soon. Because he leaves Friday.”

Betty’s face drops, her heart leaps to her throat, “wait… what?”

“Yes. All this time you guys have been avoiding each other, you could have been making a plan. And now he’s leaving. So, that’s enough. Enough of this moping,” Veronica says. “I’m so sorry you’re  _ sad _ . But you need to pull yourselves together enough to have a real conversation.”

Betty can’t help but think - no, _know_ \- Veronica is right.

“But first…” Veronica says quietly, scrunching her nose, “I think it’s time for a shower. You smell… _ terrible. _ ” The girls erupt into a fit of laughter, and Betty gives Veronica another playful shove.    
“You’re such an ass,” she chuckles as Veronica pushes the blankets from the two of them. They both jump at the sound of Veronica’s phone chime. She digs it out of her pocket and smiles broadly. 

“What? Who is it?” Betty asks as Veronica rolls over on her back, reading the message on her phone. She glances at Betty sideways.   


“Who do you think?”   


“Archie?”

“ _ Duhhh _ ,” she sings. Her smile fades into a pout, her bottom lip sticking out as she sighs, “uggghhh… I just miss him so much already.”

“What does it say?” Betty wonders, peering over Veronica’s shoulder at her phone. She squints at the screen, trying to read it, so Veronica reads it out loud.   


“It says:  _ Chicago is amazing, but not as amazing as you. I miss you like crazy and can’t wait to see you. _ ”

“ _ Aww… _ ” Betty coos, but then her face drops. She’s confused. “Wait,  _ see you? _ He just  _ left..? _ ” Betty queries, finally stepping out of the bed with a stretch. Veronica gets up too, walking towards the blinds to let the sunshine in and opening the window to air out the room. Betty hisses at the light stinging her eyes - it is an odd feeling after three straight days of being shut off in the dark.    


“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m flying out for the weekend. We are going to try to see each other as much as possible.” 

“ _ Huh… _ ” Betty hums, tying her hair up on top of her head.   


“What?” Veronica prods, grabbing the blankets and lifting them up high, fanning them out smoothly over her mattress.    


“It’s just… really cool that you guys are trying so hard,” she says with a half-hearted shrug. Betty turns towards Veronica before plopping down at the end of her bed. “You guys make it look so easy-”

Veronica nears her, setting a hand on each of her shoulders, “oh, sweetie… it  _ is _ easy. It’s what you do when you  _ love _ someone. You guys are making it way harder than it needs to be! Just put on your big girl pants, march right over there and talk to him, for god sakes! No more rules. No more stipulations. Just…  _ talk. _ ” 

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” Betty mutters, fluffing a pillow a bit too aggressively and tossing it to the head of the bed. “And whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Um, team Betty,  _ always _ . How  _ dare _ you,” Veronica chirps back with feigned indignation, narrowing her eyes playfully at her friend. “But also, you should have known this might happen. This is why amateurs should never try friends-with-benefits. Don’t you know that?”

Betty sits back up on her end of the bed, bringing a knee up to her chest timidly, “I guess… I guess he really liked me and I didn’t even know it…”   


“Ohhhh, Betty,” Veronica groans, her head rolling. “Yes, you  _ did. _ ” Betty looks back at her friend, at first offended, and then a little bit guilty. 

Of course, she knew - maybe always. She just never wanted to face it. 

“Do you…do you remember that time during junior year when Jughead pranked Reggie Mantle for standing you up for winter formal?” Betty cocks her head to the side, her hands on her hips now  too.   


“That is  _ not _ why he pranked him. He pranked Reggie because he ratted on the Serpents for selling cigarettes in the bathroom at school,” Betty corrects. Veronica nods, her finger coming up to point at Betty.   


“True, that  _ was _ part of it. But Jughead was just gonna let that go. Then Reggie stood you up, and you were  _ so _ bummed out and we skipped winter formal and hung out at my house doing makeovers, instead.” Betty remembers that night all too well. She got in trouble for coming home with pink streaks in her hair. 

Veronica continues the story, “ _ Meanwhile _ , when Jughead was there with Toni, he saw Reggie came with Cheryl instead. So what did he do? Jughead left Toni at the dance, broke into Reggie’s precious car and poured milk all over the floor and hid eggs in the glove compartment…” 

At this point Betty is giggling again.    


“Reggie was  _ so  _ mad when he found that rotting egg later…”   


“Jughead did that for you,” Veronica clarified, and Betty takes in a staggered breath before giving her an acknowledging nod. “I know he doesn’t always show it in the best way but… Jughead means well. He cares a lot deeper about everything than a lot of people know. I always wondered how it must feel to feel things as deep and as raw as he does,” she explains. “He  _ loves _ you,  Betty. I just don’t think he has ever known the appropriate way to show it. And same goes for you.”   


“Maybe you’re right,” Betty considers.   


“Of course I am,” Veronica says, nods her head in a proud way. “Now… why don’t you help me pack. And then you can drive me to the airport!” Veronica suggests, happily. Betty just smiles.

“Okay… thanks for letting me stay here.”

Veronica steps to her friend, pulling her in for a hug.

“Take the night to sort your shit out, Cooper. And then I expect you to talk to him.” She pulls from her moving her wild blonde hair from out of her face so she can look in her eyes, “you  _ love _ him. He  _ loves _ you. Give yourself permission to chase it.”   
  


* * *

  
That night, Betty wakes up, her heart pounding in her chest and her pillow drenched from tears and sweat. She sits up, taking in deep, gasping breaths to get her heart to go back to its normal rate. After a moment of reflection Betty, begins to realize that it was just a nightmare, but even that fact doesn’t take away the pain she is feeling in her chest. Betty pulls her knees up to her face and sobs into her blankets. 

As she cries, all she can think about is Jughead - she thinks about his hands. About kissing him. About all the confusing emotions that came along with him.

She  _ misses _ him. 

Even more than that… she  _ loves _ him. Maybe she always had.

And she’d been so  _ scared _ and  _ stubborn _ about everything that had happened - and the fear of the unknown - that she _ had  _ pushed him away. She  _ knew _ how he felt about her - in fact, she supposes she always knew. 

And she needs him. 

_ Now _ . Tonight. 

She doesn’t care what time it is. Betty searches for her phone within the flurry of blankets. She finally finds it, gripping it tightly in her hand - it had been so quiet since the night they had ended things. 

She hates that too. 

She misses his stupid jokes and his unyielding, arrogant attitude. She misses his touch and his taste and the way he makes her body feel. She misses feeling his heartbeat against hers, even though she’d spent so much time convincing herself that she didn’t care. 

Betty dials his number without hesitation, even though it is past 2 am. She wipes away her tears as she listens to the phone ring and ring  _ and ring _ ... Her heart sinks when his voicemail picks up.

“Hey. It’s Jughead. Ummm…  _ yeah _ . I never check these but if you insist, go ahead.” 

B _ eeeeeep.  _

Even just hearing his voice makes her breath hitch. She forgets to speak at first.

“Um,  _ hi _ …” her voice wavers, and she knows the moment he hears it he will know something is wrong. He always seems to know these things. 

“I, um… I’m actually kind of glad you didn’t pick up because it makes it easier to say this to you but  _ um _ ….” she pauses, trying desperately to find a way to force herself to just  _ say _ what she feels. Why had this always been so hard? 

“Jughead I miss you. And I really,  _ really _ need you here-” 

_ BEEP _ .

Betty pulls her phone away from her hot, wet cheek to see that he is calling her back. She stops her voice message and clicks over to the other line. 

“Jughead?”

“Didn’t we nix the late-night booty calls?” his groggy, low voice drones into her ear. Betty wants to speak, but she now wishes she was still talking to his voicemail. That was easier. “Betts? You okay?” Betty feels the emotion swell in her chest as tears pour from her eyes. She sniffs. “Betty.”

“No,” she cries, “I’m not okay.” She can hear a shuffling on the other end, and this his voice becomes clearer and more alert.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?” She hates herself for worrying him so much.

“I’m not hurt, I _just_ …” she pauses, trying again to rid herself of the tears but it is no use. “I know you’re still mad at me and this is a lot to ask-”

“Betty, what do you  _ need? _ ” he interrupts calmly, and the sound of his voice soothes her. 

“ _ You. _ ” She bites onto her lip before she asks, “Can you come over here?” 

There is a brief silence, a resigned sigh.

“...when _? _ ”

“Now. I just… I really need you, Jughead,” her voice cracks and when he hears it, Jughead doesn’t even hesitate.

“You’re still just over at Veronica’s?” 

“Yeah,” she chokes

“... I’ll be right over.”

 

* * *

 

Jughead isn’t sure what to expect. Betty seemed so distraught on the phone, and he’d never heard her like that before. It makes him anxious just thinking about what could possibly be wrong.

All he  _ did  _ know for certain is that Betty needs him, and regardless of everything they’d been through, he is going to be there. He throws on some pants and a shirt, and made the incredibly short trek across the hall. He gets to the front door, but before he can knock, he freezes. His mind begins to race with apprehension and self-doubt.

Why is he doing this to himself again? 

Why is he putting himself out there just to get turned down? 

Hasn’t he learned his lesson  _ yet?  _

Even still, for some reason, he just  _ can’t _ turn his back on her. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would always be there for here - “ _ we’re friends before anything else. _ ” 

No matter how big of a pain in the ass she is, he has no intention of changing his mind about that.

Even if she had changed her mind about  _ him _ .

He knocks anyway. The door swings open quickly and there she is. 

He feels his breath catch at the sight of her, especially since he’d never truly seen her cry before - sure, maybe a few tears to a documentary. But Betty _isn’t_ really a crier. 

So this is a very new feeling for him.

“Hey-” before he can even finish greeting her, Betty falls into him, tightly wrapping her arms around him.

She cries into his chest, and after a moment of hazy confusion, Jughead slowly and timidly encloses his arms around her tiny frame, bringing her inside the apartment and quietly closing the door behind them. 

“You’re  _ here _ ,” she murmurs into his shirt. He leans down and presses a kiss into her hair before leaning his cheek on the top of her head, wondering what he is supposed to do now. 

“I was  _ always _ here...” he says softly, but that just seems to make Betty cry even harder and squeeze him even tighter and he wonders if he’d said the wrong thing. 

Again. 

Betty looks up at him, her chin resting on his chest. Jughead brings his hands up to move the wild, blonde hair that is sticking to her wet face before cupping a hand on each of her cheeks. Her face is puffy and her eyes are watery, but the tears have made her irises the most magnificent green he’d ever seen, even in the darkness of Veronica’s apartment. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, and Betty’s mouth falls open, but then she closes it again. She feels so silly for calling him over just because of a stupid nightmare, but regardless she is glad he is here. 

He  _ is  _ always here. These last few days, they were only a few feet away from each other, and yet it felt like miles.

“I…” she stops, embarrassed. “I had a nightmare.” She is thankful when he doesn’t laugh at her. “I just… I really wanted to be with you tonight.” Her voice is low, her face serious in a way he’s never seen from her. Her eyes search his, once again asking for permission or approval. He says nothing, only clenches his jaw and breathes through his nose slowly as he tries to keep himself from giving in to her. 

It doesn’t deter her, though. Betty now knows what she wants more than anything. She is up onto her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his softly. Jughead resists at first. 

“ _ Betty, _ ” he says quietly, shaking his head. Betty reaches her hands up to gently hold his face still. “C’mon…  _ stop. _ ” He fights weakly to pull away, but not very hard at all. He knows his will is bending, he knows he is hers. 

_ Always, always hers. _

“Jughead…  _ please _ ,” her voice cracks, and the tears are back. One of her hands holds onto the collar of his shirt, the other on the back of his neck as she tries to move his face to hers, tries to kiss him even though she knows he is fighting it. 

He relents a bit, his resolve weakening with each tug from her. He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning his forehead to hers. He is still trying, with every bit of remaining internal strength he has to step away from her, but when she said his name like that… when she said  _ please _ like that…

“This is a bad idea, Betty. We  _ both  _ know that,” he protests meekly, “you don’t  _ want _ me.”

“I  _ do,  _ Jughead,” she whimpers, her grip on him tightening. She presses a kiss against his neck, his jaw. “I  _ want _ this…” Jughead’s hands slowly trail over her sides before wrapping around her waist almost involuntarily, as though they were moving on their own accord. “I want  _ you _ .”

Those few words to him in.

“Tell me you’re sorry, Betty,” he whispers, and maybe at one point that might have sounded teasing or insincere, but when he sas it now, he means it. He  _ needs _ it. His heart hurts every single time he thinks of her. Every single time he remembers that he is fucking crazy about her and she doesn’t feel the same. Every time he thinks about how she used him, how they used each other. 

Betty kisses his neck again.

“I’m so,  _ so _ sorry, Jughead,” she mumbles into his skin. And she is. She  _ is  _ sorry for taking so long to figure out her feelings. She is sorry for hurting him. It is her turn to make things better. She pulls away to see his face - he is breaking.

“Don’t.... don’t hurt me again, okay?” he says so quietly that she almost doesn’t hear it and tears continue to sting her eyes and nose as she whispers, “I _ won’t _ . I swear.” 

And that is all he needed.

Jughead pushes forward suddenly, his lips colliding with hers roughly as he scoops her up with ease. Betty sighs relief into his mouth and wraps her legs around him, tightly. He walks her forward a few steps before he plops her down on the countertop, yanking at the strap of her tank top to kiss her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. 

_ God _ , he missed this. Missed her skin, missed her touch, missed her soft, quiet sounds.

Betty’s head falls back as her fingers run through his hair, and for once she isn’t thinking about all the ways she needs to hold back, she simply squeezes her legs around him tighter and pulls him even closer to her.

Jughead’s hands slink around her, yanking her hips to his as he continues to kiss her neck. His fingers dig into her dangerously smooth thighs, and he can’t help himself from smiling against her skin when he hears her breathy voice admit, “I  _ missed  _ you so much.” 

It makes his heart flutter to hear  _ her _ say something like that to  _ him _ . Betty can’t believe she feels this way either - although it had been becoming clearer and clearer to her as the days went by without contact from him. For the first time since they’d begun this whole thing, they both know something stronger than desire and lust is bringing them together. 

He pulls his lips from her to look at her, his hands once again finding her cheeks. She reaches her hands up and let them rest on his wrists and he strokes her cheek with his thumb. 

He softly reminds her, “I  _ never  _ left.” 

She stares back at him lovingly he knows - now more than ever - it’s different now. He isn’t sure what or why, but this isn’t like anything he’s experienced with her before. He slowly leans in, his lips connecting to hers easily, and even this _ feels _ different. 

Betty notices it, too. She isn’t looking for an escape. She isn’t stuck in her own head. She is  _ here _ and even more than that, she  _ wants _ to be. 

The tears in her eyes have shifted from sadness to an overwhelming feeling of contentedness and it makes her stomach drop when his tongue separates her lips and he presses onward. He picks her back up again and carries her bed on the pull out couch, gently laying her back. 

Betty loves the pressure of his body on top of hers, pushing her down into the soft mattress and surrounding her. She isn’t sure what sensation to focus on - the taste of him, the smell of his breath, the feeling of him covering all of her, or his soft, quiet breaths as they harmonize with hers. 

Every one of her senses is engaged and she feels like no amount of him is going to be enough. 

Her hand presses against his chest, against his heartbeat, and she is suddenly so, so thankful for it. When she thinks about how much she hurt him, how he’d poured this beautiful, deep, aching heart of his out for her and she just pushed him further away - it all felt like _ so _ much wasted time. 

Time they could have spent like this.

Jughead’s hand slides under her thigh then her knee, hoisting her leg up and onto his back, and Betty gasps lightly at the new sensation when his body falls more between her legs. She can feel the firmness of him tightly against her as he grinds his hips to hers. Her fingernails dig into his back and they are both suddenly so aware of the barriers between them. 

She tugs at the bottom of his shirt, bringing it up a bit and Jughead sits up to remove it altogether. Betty does the same to herself beneath him. When he sinks back down it is skin to skin and it makes Betty gasp when she feels him presses up against her. 

Jughead thinks he must be dreaming; the way her fingertips graze him with a softness and certainness she’s never shown him before; the way her eyes stare up at him, half-lidded and so full of…  _ something _ . 

He feels so confused by this change, but he can’t stop himself now even if he tried - he’s wanted to feel this from her for  _ so  _ long. He wants to make sure this night is special - even though it already is.

Jughead trails soft, fleeting kisses down her neck, her breasts, her stomach. The lower he gets the more nervous Betty becomes. They’ve done this what feels like a million times... so why did this time feel so important? She bites her lip as his tongue swirls circles near her hip and his hand reaches up to take hold of the hem of her panties. Betty’s fingers tangle in his hair and she feels her legs fall more open as he presses nipping, teasing kisses against her inner thighs.

“Ju-Jughead,” she giggles, squirming a bit. His lips follow her anyway, ignoring her half-hearted protests. “That tickles.” That doesn’t stop him, though, just makes him move to the real destination quicker. Betty doesn’t hesitate to lift her hips as he eases her panties off swiftly, tossing them across the room. 

He wants to taste her. 

He wants to make her feel as good as she is making him feel. 

“ _ Ah _ !” Betty hisses in surprise, feeling him press his mouth against her, gently at first. Teasingly. Betty knows she no longer has any control over her own body when her back arches and she writhes beneath his movements as his tongue explores her. She loves, and yet  _ despises _ , the way she feels so out of control of herself with him. 

Jughead knows the right area to focus his attentions on, and Betty can tell she is close already. All of the anticipation had worked her up enough on his own, this is just pushing her over the edge.

She reaches down and clutches his head even more firmly against her. She shudders and sees flashes of their _ entire history together as she came _ \- birthdays and school dances and laughter and sorrow and it all washes over her at the same time. 

And in this moment, she _ knows _ that what she hadn’t been sure off, at least not completely: she loves him. 

“Oh my God,” she breathes through ragged, strained breaths when she comes back down from her high, her chest heaving. She peers down at him, looking up at her and pulling away from her, bringing his hand to his mouth and wiping her away. 

“Have you always been that good at this?” she wonders, but then decides she doesn’t need the answer to that. 

“Why do you always ask me that?” is his muffled response against her lips. Jughead smirks triumphantly as he scales her body once more, laying only partially upon her this time. He props his head up on his elbow, his other hand tracing up and down her stomach, admiring her as she moves at his touch. He feels like a puppet master, and yet it was Betty who had him under her control - she always has.

“You are…” he brushes a kiss onto her shoulder and moves her hair from her neck, “so amazing.” Betty smiles weakly, but shakes her head.

“Don’t say that,” she objects, turning to her side to face him. She can’t seem to keep her own hands off of him as well, trailing his sides and his hips and his neck. She wants to feel every part of him. Her eyes flit back up to his. “I’m really not, Jughead. I’ve been….  _ Awful _ to you.”

“No, it’s okay-”

“It’s  _ not _ . I should never have treated you that way-” she stops, sighing. “Can we just forgive each other?” Jughead laughs, pulling her into him and hugging onto her.

“I mean, we  _ can _ , but I can’t promise that the sex will be as good. I hear ‘hate sex’ is  _ preeeetty  _ awesome.” Betty laughs, snorting a bit as her hand rests on his bicep.

“Yeah, but the other kind is probably pretty great too,” she says, then her eyes widen and she realizes what she’d just said, wishing she could eat her words. Jughead feels a huge grin break across his face, and Betty folds her lips to keep from saying anything further.

“ _ What _ does  _ that _ mean?” he says with a chuckle, taunting her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head again, hiding behind her hands.

“Nothing, just… let’s forget it, okay?” she begs, but Jughead isn’t so easily deterred. He takes her wrists and pries her hands away from her face.

“No, no, I want to hear. The  _ other _ kind? What’s the  _ other _ kind, Betty ?” Jughead’s smile fades when he saw the seriousness in hers. He swallows, licking his lips, still being able to taste her on them. He clears his throat and Betty pushes forward, rolling herself on top of him. She leans down, her breath dances on her lips as her mouth grazes his.

“This kind.”

Jughead’s hands roam her naked body that is now straddling his, the thin fabric of his boxers still separating them. She sits up and encourages him to do the same. She wraps her arms around his neck and looks down at him, kissing him deeply once more, and Jughead can feel her hips move over his, and he isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to hold out without  _ actually _ having sex with her.

He scoots the both of them back against the back of the couch, and then pushes Betty back a bit to admire every curve and groove of her body in the moonlight pouring in from the window beside them. 

Her hair falls in waves just barely over her breasts, her eyes are heavy but present and he loves the way it feels to run his hands up her smooth sides and back down her stomach. He wants to explore every part of her; in many of the times before, they’d always been in such a hurry. 

This time, he wants to  _ really  _ feel her.

Betty reaches down between her legs and finds him there, subdued by his boxers but still prominent just the same. Jughead’s hips raise a bit at the contact and he bites his lip, which makes Betty smile a slightly devious grin, knowing she is completely in control now. She snaps the elastic of his underwear and he lifts his hips up with her still on top of him to shimmy out of them. 

Now there is literally nothing between them, and even though they’ve been naked together countless times now, this time is the first time either of them felt truly exposed. 

Betty takes ahold of him and strokes a few times. Jughead just closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the back of the couch as he takes in the sensation. She remains on his lap and he can feel the heat radiating from her, so close to him. He desperately wants to be inside of her already, but at the same time this torturous, agonizing wait is just as erotic and he wants it to last forever. 

Betty leans forward, still gripping onto him between them and she gently kisses his lips before softly biting onto his bottom one, and Jughead groans in response. Betty’s big, seafoam eyes open and instantly connect with his, and it makes her heart stop for a moment - little does she know that his did too. 

He leans forward impatiently, crashing his lips against hers as he holds her by the back of the neck, his fingers tangling in her blonde locks. He is frenzied, and Betty knows he isn’t going to be this patient with her much longer. 

She rises onto her knees, and Jughead is so busy kissing her that he doesn’t even notice her position him perfectly beneath her and slowly slinking down upon him, letting him fill her up. They mutually gasp into each other’s mouths and Jughead’s forehead leans against her shoulder as he processes the sensation - it is so much, all at once. He thinks he is going to lose it when he felt her hips slowly rotate against his, and then he is even deeper within her. 

Betty grabs ahold of the back of the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric, using it to really move her body against his. Jughead’s hands squeeze against her hips and her upper thighs, digging and scratching against her skin before his hands wrap around to her butt, guiding her to his preferred pace and depth. 

Betty is nearing her second orgasm, she can feel it growing deep inside of her. Jughead can tell by the suddenly faraway look in her eyes and the way she grows wetter, yet tightens around him. He hugs onto her tightly, his hands roughly gripping onto her back as he thrust himself upward, really grinding himself hard against her the way he knows she likes. 

Betty’s own arms enclose him, holding him back just as tightly, and she rests her face in the crook of his neck, her heart feeling so full she fears she might start crying again. 

‘ _ I love you _ ,’ she thinks to herself. It just kept repeating in her head over and over again, almost distracting her from the way he feels between her legs - while the sex felt good (it always did), this foreign, powerful feeling in her heart for him is possibly even  _ more _ amazing. 

“I love you.”

Betty feels Jughead freeze beneath her, and she almost thought he’d finished while she was too busy in her own head. 

But then Jughead peels away his skin that has fused with hers, looking up at her face, which is so close to his. He moves her hair from her face, and she just stares back at him in confusion. 

“What… did you just say?” he asks, and Betty’s stomach drops and her eyes widen when she realizes that her mouth had been so close to his ear, and she must have said it aloud.

“ _ What? _ ” she asks, breathlessly. Jughead presses a kiss against her agape mouth, then asks her again. 

“What did you just say? A second ago… It sounded like you said-”

“I said I love you,” Betty blurts before she can stop herself. Her eyes fill with tears instantly, because she realizes how much she means it. She’d tried so hard to avoid it, tried so hard to ignore it and there is no denying it. “I love you, Jughead. And… I want you to stay with me tonight” she tells him, her voice raspy. Then it occurs to her that he might not feel the same way anymore, with him moving to New York.

“But… the  _ rules- _ ” he starts, since she’d spent so much time reminding him of the rules in the past. 

“Forget the rules. There  _ are _ no rules,” she tells him quickly, her hands reaching up to hold his face. “When have we ever actually any of those  _ rules? _ ”

“Well… they were mostly  _ your _ rules,” he sasses back, lowly. 

He starts to laugh, but then her eyebrows expressively show her remorse and her fear that he is rejecting her, pulling together as she said, “just stay with me tonight, please? I know you’re leaving and we’ll figure that all out in the morning but… please just stay with me.” 

Jughead swallows and then nods, and Betty starts rocking against him once more and he is instantly catapulted back to where they’d left off, and he could feel his own end coming on fast.

“Ask me again,” Jughead demands, his voice gruff against her skin. He wants to hear it, and Betty actually likes the way it felt to say it, so she huffs out, “please stay with me.” Jughead wants to smile but he is too overrun with the growing sensation. 

"I love you, Betty," he whispers into her ear, and Betty feels herself melt beneath him… she feels herself growing warmer and warmer, the tingling returning within her that has her heart racing and her mind drawing a blank. She claws her nails into his back, biting down upon his shoulder as another wave of ecstasy washes over her.

With that, Jughead quickly reaches his end as well, as there is no point in prolonging the inevitable.  It only takes a few more thrusts knowing she loves him too before he feels himself release within her. His movements slow beneath her, and Betty peppers kisses on his cheek, his lips, his jaw. 

After a long moment of basking in the afterglow, Jughead raises his head, a look of surprise on his face.

"Well, I gotta say, I did  _ not _ expect this to happen tonight," he admits, out of breath. He slowly and painfully grips her hips, disconnecting their bodies and collapsing on the pull out couch. He rolls from her, but not too far away. His arms still grasp onto her like he is scared she is going to scurry away from him. 

"I didn't just imagine that, right? That really happened?" he asks. Betty smirks, her hair a mess, as she turns to face him, her face glowing and cheeks pink.

"Yeah, that just happened," she says, low and hoarse, laying her head gently on her pillow. Jughead reaches up, his thumb tracing the grooves of her lips, drinking in her soft features, staring at her with love in his eyes. He leans in, giving her one last lingering kiss before pulling her in close, holding her tightly to his chest. 

Betty closes her eyes smiles to herself with absolutely no regrets in her decision for once.

Especially as he softly mutters, "I will never know what I ever did to deserve that. But I'll gladly keep it up forever as long as I can keep you, Betty Cooper."

 

* * *

 

_ tbc _

  
  



	10. say you won't let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, this is the end. I LOVE YOU ALL for loving this fic but I am sooo ready to move on. I hope you love it! Find me on tumblr (@mogitz) and send me your fic reqs. I am sorry if it seems rushed but, I hate ending fics. I am good with the beginning and the middle... But I hate endings.  
> I will edit out typos tomorrow. xoxoxo

 

* * *

 

Betty and Jughead are really good at avoiding the inevitable.

But amongst the romantic cocoon they built around themselves, there is the ever-looming presence of moving boxes.

And train ticket purchases.

And apartment hunting in New York via craigslist.

Betty bites her bottom lip when Jughead tells her he thinks he found a steal over in Brooklyn, but the landlord wants first _and_ last month’s rent. Or there’s a shoebox apartment available in Bushwick, but what kind of commute would that be?

Jughead can see from the glossed over look in Betty’s eyes that she’s trying to keep herself together. He just sighs and closes his laptop, wrapping an arm around her and bringing her close.

“I’ll be back in a couple weeks… and you’re coming out for spring break.”

She smiles weakly. She wants so badly to be happy for him.

“I don’t know how I’m going to go from seeing you every single day to hardly ever.”

He takes her chin and gently turns her face toward his, pressing a soft, chaste kiss against her lips. His eyes search hers, as he calmly tells her, “if Archie and Veronica can do it, so can we.”

Betty smiles. Nods. Shakes it off.

They _can_ do this.

Because they love each other.

They show each other than over and over again, the days leading up to the end. In the blue-black cold of the wee hours of morning, he holds her. They are tangled up in one another in bed, holding off dawn, hoping the day is not actually here.

That they don’t really have to say goodbye.

“I don’t want you to go,” she admits, her words barely above a whisper. She’s tired. He can hear it in her voice, all gravelly and hoarse. He pulls her closer to his chest, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he confesses right back to her. He feels her shift beneath his arms, trying to look up at him in the darkness. He can see the tears in her eyes, even now.

“What if you meet someone? Or what if you forget about me?”

These are dumb thoughts, she doesn’t know why she’s even saying them out loud. Of course that won’t happen - that could never happen. He tilts her chin up, his face stoic.

“I have loved you since I was a kid,” he says. “I might meet a lot of people. But they will _never_ be you.”

They kiss, it’s sad and desperate, and it segues into the goodbye sex that neither of them wants to have. He slides his arm under her, bringing her up onto him as he presses kisses into her lips, her jaw, her neck. It’s slow and lazy as he tries to memorize her. The fear has embedded itself into his heart: what if she’s right? What if they have the best of intentions, but they can’t stomach the distance?

He shakes those thoughts away and just tries to focus on what she feels like on top of him, the way she moves. She is everything he’s ever wanted and could never seem to hold on to.

Maybe… he shouldn’t go.

Maybe he should stay here. Time Magazine is overrated, after all.

They say nothing more, just listen to the sounds of their mingled breath in the silence of the bedroom. The unspoken words that sound a lot like goodbye.

* * *

The day Jughead leaves for New York was one of the hardest days either of them has ever had.

Betty grips onto his hand like her life depends on it as they walk toward the train station. Neither has found the right words, so they agree upon even more silence.

“This feels like a movie,” Betty says aloud, and he can tell by the rouge on her cheeks she didn’t mean to.

“You mean the part where we run into each other’s arms and never let go?” he wonders. She snorts and he’s glad he can make her laugh among the sadness in her eyes. “I mean, we can do that. But… where’s the mystery? Where’s the intrigue?” he wonders, turning to face her as he takes her face in his hands. “I will be right back. It isn’t going to be as hard. We are thinking too much,” he assures her.

“I just have to finish my transfer,” she adds. This was the plan. He was going to go, get set up, and she’d be right behind him. Veronica was devastated, of course, everyone leaving her all at once. But watching Betty and Jughead come up with such a plan made her start her transfer out to Chicago - they were going to be scattered, but their friendships would hopefully come out on the other side unscathed.

“Boarding for New York City, New York! Gate 3!” The speaker sounds, and it causes that sinking, awful feeling in both of their bellies.

“I guess this is me…” he drones, and she can sense his reservations.

“It’s not that far…” Jughead isn’t sure if she is assuring him or herself.

“I’m gonna call you as soon as I get there.”

“Good,” she breathes, her chest heaving wildly as she tries to ward off the panic slowly rising inside of her. “Good, I want to know everything.”

Jughead presses a quick kiss to her lips before he loses his nerve and stays forever - seeing her there, makes him not want to go.

She sees him to the gate and as he gets on the train, and Betty feels the lump in her throat grow exponentially, her eyes brimming with tears. How she was strong enough to say goodbye to him, she’ll never know. Not after she just got him.

Her heart feels like it weighs a ton in her chest, and she wonders if she’ll ever recover from his. The train hasn’t even left, and yet she feels like he’s a million miles away.

It takes everything out of her not to climb onto that train with him.

Betty wipes her tears, choking down sobs that desperately want to fall from her lips. She turns to head home, thinking about the bottle of wine and carton of Ben and Jerry’s that has her name on them. But then, she hears it: the unmistakable sound of Jughead calling out her name.

She turns, her eyes hopeful.

Jughead is hopping off the train, jogging back over to her.

“Jughead, what are you-” her words are cut short as he takes her face in his hands and kisses her passionately, deeply. She can’t help but relish in how familiar and wonderful his lips feel against hers as her mouth parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

This wasn’t like any of their previous kisses.. this is different. It sends butterflies fluttering throughout her stomach.

She reaches up and grips onto his arms, desperately taking that kiss from him; she wants nothing more. Her head feels dizzy and her heart is beating rapidly. He pulls away a bit, breaking the kiss, but then leans back in again, this time more softly, more lovingly. Betty likes this one even more, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to freeze this moment in her memory; the way he feels and tastes, the way their lips moved together in perfect unity. She never wants this moment to end.

When they part, he presses his forehead to hers, his hands sliding to the back of her neck as he stared into her eyes.

“I love you so much, Betty,” he says, and she is surprised, just because it had never sounded so pure coming from his lips.

“I love you too… I don’t want to say goodbye,” she says quietly, closing her eyes as her lips push towards his but don’t meet, begging for more.

“It’s _never_ goodbye,” he says simply, and her eyes opened to see Jughead in rare seriousness. He allowed their lips to meet once more, fleetingly, before letting go of her entirely. Betty finds herself still reaching out towards him, the space between them feeling so vast and empty. He sighs as he takes a big step back away from her, bringing his hands up behind his head. He looks back at the train, then at Betty again. She can see the conflict in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans painfully, dropping his hands and even though he is trying to come across as playful, she could still pick out the frustration. She wasn’t aware she was looking at him any particular away. He leans down now, his hands on his knees.

“Betty, if I don’t go now, I will _never_ go,” he confesses in a low drone. He doesn’t have to say it is because he didn’t want to leave her. She knows. There are a lot of things that were said between them without saying anything at all.

“Final Boarding for New York!” the speaker sounds, and Jughead shakes himself from his stupor.

“Go,” Betty chokes, giving him permission that took every ounce of internal strength to sound confident. “Go kick ass. I’ll be there soon,” she smirks. He nods, a grin growing on his face as well. He begins to walk back towards his the train but suddenly turned back towards her.

“Hey, Betts?” he calls out. She glances back at him. “You’re still my favorite Valentine.”

“You too,” Betty blurts out quickly, followed by a giggle. His smile is blinding, bowing his head to look at his feet.

“I’ll see you soon,” he assures, walking back to the open door of the train and hopping on. He gives her one last longing glance, points at her, then gives her a quick wave, and before she knew it, he was gone.

  
  


* * *

_**February 14th, the next year** _

 

After alternating weekends and holidays for months, Betty is supposed to move to New York that summer.

But then her dad got sick, and then her own internship got accepted, and summer turns into fall, and fall turns into winter.

Still, they keep trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel - because it is worth it.

Jughead’s internship comes to an end, and miraculously (although Betty wouldn’t agree - she knew it was going to happen) Jughead is actually hired on at Time - not a huge section, but enough to prove himself as a journalist.

It is all a dream come true… except for the one missing component that could make it truly perfect.

“I’m not going to be able to come out for Valentine’s day,” Jughead tells Betty remorsefully over the phone, sitting at his stupid corporate desk - okay, he can love his job without wanting to feed into the 9-5 cliche that was now his life. He looks out the window of his office to see the city, wondering just what he was doing here.

New York is certainly a rat race, one he would have been willing to face if Betty was here, or if she wasn't in his life at all. But having her so far away made him feel lonely… distracted.

She sounded sad on the phone, but he’d warned her the week before, just in case. And now Valentine’s Day was only hours away and it wasn’t looking any more promising than it had before.

“No?” she breathes, and he can’t get a good read on her tone. Is he letting her down? Is she alright?

She sounds far away… distracted.

“I have this stupid deadline, and I need to be able to work on it tomorrow…”

He doesn’t want to admit that he knows how symbolic this is - not only has he NOT had a Valentines Day away from Betty, but more than that, Valentine’s Day one year ago is what brought them together in the first place. He had this dumb, awful, commercially produced holiday to blame for everything they were now. In a way, it was their anniversary.

“Are you okay?” he wonders when she says nothing.

“I understand,” she says, and he sighs a breath of relief - she always does.

“I will make this up to you,” he promises, unable to hide the melancholy from his voice as he thinks about the fact that it will be another few weeks before he gets to see her again on spring break.

“I love you,” he reminds her.

“I love you more,” she challenges him.

They get off the phone, and Jughead starts juggling the pros and cons of leaving this place altogether. What good is a career without the love of his life? New York was a dream, but it felt like nothing without her. The many times she’d visited since he left were heaven, and yet she always had to go home - how much longer could they do this?

Jughead’s shoulders slump like they’ve come unhinged before he gets his jacket. It’s late - too late. He shouldn’t even be at work now. But that’s life… it’s the life he’s chosen.

He daydreams about her skin and her scent on the subway ride home. Thinks about jumping off at the next stop and taking a bus home, just to surprise her. He waited for her his whole life - what was he doing here?

She has been nothing but patient and loving while he chased his dreams. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that it’s been a whole year since the day his lips first tasted hers, since he felt her skin the way he’d longed to.

The steps up to his apartment door are heavy, weighted with regret. He wants to go home.

Betty is home.

He unlocks his door and steps inside, surprised to see the soft glow of candles spread throughout his tiny apartment. His lips curve into a smile when he knows the answer before he calls out, “hello? Is someone here?”

He sets down his keys gingerly, excitedly rounding the corner… and he sees her.

Betty is in the middle of his tiny living room, beaming proudly in that red dress that made him fall in love with her all over again.

“Surprise,” she says but doesn’t yell, her arms out to the side as if to say, “what now?”

Jughead swallows down the throat that has immediately formed in his throat, “hi.”

“Hi.” Her smile broadens and her hands clasp in front of her cutely - she swishes her body from side to side once or twice, “I knew you might not be able to come so.. I took a chance.”

Jughead only takes a few quick strides forward and he’s reached her, cupping her face in her hands and swallowing her mouth with his. He tips her back, likening himself to a Cary Grant or Clark Gable, sweeping his lady off her feet. Betty murmurs softly into his mouth, her own hands coming up to cup his face, sweetly. Jughead is lost in the moment, his heart more full than it’s been in longer than he can imagine.

He brings her back to her feet, pulling away only to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“I live here now,” she tells him, her eyes searching his for some kind of reassurance that she’s made the right choice. “I - I couldn’t go on like this much longer. I am ready for our life to begin. I want to be _here…_ with you-”

“But your job-?” he tries, but she’s already shaking her head, her hands sweetly grazing the sides of his face.

“I transferred. I mean, my new job is clear in Washington _Heights,_ but... I’ll make it work.” She smiles sweetly, her eyes glistening, “ _we_ will make it work” she clarifies.

The word _“we”_ has never sounded so lovely until falling from her beautiful, peach lips.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Jughead says in awe, his hands roaming up and down her sides, her hips. He has no idea why he hasn’t ravaged her already, but then quickly her arm snapped out, grabbing ahold of Jughead by the back of his neck and pulling his lips to hers in a frenzy. Jughead accepts the kiss graciously, thankfully, his own lips smashing thirstily against hers. He takes a step in, her a step back, their bodies engaged in a dance of sorts as she pulls him into farther into the living room.

"Shut up," Betty said breathlessly, shushing him with more kisses to his mouth. He did as she said.

Betty pushed him up against the door, her fingers locking into his hair, as if she were keeping him from being able to pull away. But it doesn’t matter, the last thing on Jug's mind is being anywhere other than where he was right now. His hands trail her back, over her rear before he scoops her up with ease, and Betty hops up, locking her legs around his waist. He spins her around, reversing their roles as he pins her to the door, his tongue snaking out and slipping into her mouth, a slight moan escaping his lips.

They continue to paw at one another, clumsily, passionately.  Betty’s body seems to react on instinct, doing things she didn't even know she knew how. She tears at his jacket, trying to free him of the restriction before they successfully discard it completely.

Jughead carries her towards her bed in his - their - tiny studio apartment, dropping her down on it before he leans down, his body pinning hers down to the mattress as his lips find her neck, her shoulder, her chest, his hand carefully and craftily inching up her stomach under her shirt.

He breaks away from her, out of breath as he stares down at her half-lidded eyes. His lips feel raw, his breathing ragged.

Jughead leans down, his lips roaming over her stomach, slowly slinking further down. She lifts her hips to allow him to slip her skirt off. His hands continue to explore her, every touch and kiss sending a wave of energy through her that made her move her body involuntarily.

Their clothes soon decorate the floor before they climb into the very bed that they'd spend countless night in before, only this time it was going to be different - she’s going to be able to stay.

"Are you sure you’re not going to regret moving out here?" he mumbles into her skin, sending shivers over her. She nods absently, bracing herself for what is yet to come. She has no idea what their life out here was going to be like, she only knows that she wants it now more than anything.

Jughead and Betty don’t bother with the formalities, just get straight to the main event. Before too long. she finds herself rocking against his body, working in perfect unison with him. The pace quickens, the sense of urgency to reach the point of no return becoming insatiable to a point where Betty wonders why she'd put off moving here with him for so long.

Jughead is, and always has been, a gentle lover with Betty. He takes things slow and deliberate, every movement serving a well-defined and calculated purpose.

Even still, the passion between them is undeniable.

Limbs become intertwined to the point where she doesn't know where she ended and he began.

"I love you," he whispers into her ear, and Betty feels herself melt beneath him. It doesn’t take long - it never takes long - before wave after wave of ecstasy begins washing over her. She can tell from his jerking movements that he is there too, and it fills her heart to the brim.

And his.

She’s his.

She’s here.

Their breathing slows, their hearts beating in tandem.

Betty reaches up to move the hair from Jughead’s face, trying to get a good look at him, but his eyes are clenched shut as he catches his breath.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he huffs. “You’re here, right?”

Betty can’t contain the smile in her voice as she says, “happy Valentine’s day.”

Jughead rests his head on her chest, trying to get his heart to beat in rhythm with hers.

And to think… it all started all those years ago.

“I’m bananas about you, Valentine.”


End file.
